


Quantum of Love

by Emblue_Sparks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: "Dancing in the Dark", 18th birthday flashbacks, 1995 au, 30 year old double PhD student!Kevin, 69, 69 (Sex Position), 69 is a very comfortable number for Dean and Inias, A nice vroom vroom, A-10 Warthog Pilots!Dean, AU, AU Three best friends, Accidental consumption of sexual performance enhancers, All these boys are SMART, Alpha!Sam, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angel!Gadreel(he's good tho), Anniversary, Art piece submission, Blood is spilled, Blood/cum kinks, Blow Job, Blow Jobs, Bobby Knows, Bosnian Conflict, Bossy bottom Kevin with Dean, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Burlesque, But there's still fireworks, But they get his dick, Cain has a cum kink, Cas & Benny share Top duties, Cas bites Benny's dick, Cas is a petty little shit, Cello concert, Ch 11:, Ch 12, Ch 13:, Ch 14:, Ch 16:, Ch 2: High School AU, Chapter 10: post 1995 AU, Chapter 1:, Chapter 3:, Chapter 5:, Chapter 6:, Chapter 7:, Chapter 8:NO MCD, Chapter 9: 1995 AU, Combat aircraft terms & maneuvers, Commiserating with a friend, Couch Snuggles, Crack-ish ficlet, Cuddling, Cum and blood kinks, Dean has spoken, Demon Murder Wives, Disembodied Demon!Sam, Don't Ask Don't Tell, E.D. is a valid issue, Ex lovers to enemies to angry fuckers to chill boyfriends, Fairy Not-Father, Fairy Tale inspired, Family Dinner, Feeding on Gadreel & Sam, Fitting revenge, Flight suit frottage, Four Corner Marriage, Frottage, Ginger blade fight over Sam's dick, Gladius sword vs Karambits, Go kartin', Goonies movie night, Great cook!Dean, Groping, Grumpy post coital!Jess, Hand Job, Hand Jobs, Happily Ever After, Happy Endings For All, Hell Realm, Hellhound love, Horn kink, Hostile Serbian Wilderness, Human Dean, Implied Blow Job, In love with best friends, In the neediest way ever, Inias - Freeform, Innocent bewilderment of poly lifestyle, Insults & sarcasm, Kev's a speed freak, Kilts, Kissing, Longing, Mad love for the Warthog, Masterbation, Meatsuited!Sam, Mention of pedophile dismemberment, Mention of torture, Mistreatment by step bitchlings, Moondorverse, Motorcycle Club AU, Multi, No MCD, Oral Sex, Orgasms, Physics is HOT, Pining!Dean and Inias, Popcorn, Professor of Aerospace Engineering!Sam, Professor of Mechanical Engineering!Dean, Pure Smut, Quickie handjobs, Racism towards angels and vampires, Ramiel is loved, Respect for the F-35 and MIG 29 capabilities, Rival Kingdoms, S.E.R.E. Training, Sam Whump, Sam appreciates this, Sam's Lost Shoe - Freeform, Satisfied and happy girls, Savior!Benny, Search & Rescue Marine!Benny, Season 13 divergent, Shower Sex, Simultaneous Orgasm, Snuggling, Soda, Strap on that cums, Strengthening of a strong poly dynamic, Succubus!Cas, Support, T-rex sized tussle, Top Sam, Trust, V22 Bell Boeing Osprey, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vampire to Cumpyre!Eli, Vampyre!Benny, Vampyre-Fae rules & regulations, Voyeur!Dean, Working through some E.D. issues, Worry over the secret, birthday fun, biting kink, bottom!Dean, but also Savior!Cas, butt plug, cas, chapter 4, choo choo train, closeted relationships, cum kink, drunken were-bear husbands, everybody has a happy ending, fuck and suck, loosely inspired by movie Behind Enemy Lines, loving threesome, mentions of using a strap on, minor blood play, monster hunt, morning blow job, naps, poolside water canon fight, prom queens, switch!Benny, switch!cas, trust between characters, voyeurism kink, worry/comfort, yes I went there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 49,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25371445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emblue_Sparks/pseuds/Emblue_Sparks
Summary: Collection of fics and art work for the 2020-2021 SPN Poly Bingo.
Relationships: Bela/Ruby/Meg, Cain/Abaddon/Ramiel, Claire/Kaia/Patience, Dean/Cas/Inias, Dean/Cas/Inias/Benny, Dean/Kevin and Sam/Kevin, Jack + Alfie + Krissy, Jess/Jo/Lisa/Ruby, John/Bobby/Cain, Sam/Rowena/Gabriel, dean/cas/benny
Comments: 73
Kudos: 24
Collections: SPN Poly Bingo, SPN Rare Pair Bunker, SPN Women Challenge - 2020 July





	1. Cthulu's Angels

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to be mixing up the slash, sexualities, art, and poly dynamics. Open to constructive criticism, so feel free to leave a comment!
> 
> Thank you to tfw-cas for saving me from myself as usual, you make me look far better than I am. And thanks to my art betas Amyoatmeal and Shealynn88- for putting up with my beginner nonsense and giving me advice!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cthulu, the dark interdimensional lord, has hand selected Hell's finest from the Empty to help him achieve ultimate dominion of Earth. To complete his latest mission- Bela, Meg, and Ruby are in Fall River, Mass to find the one who summoned the Shedim. The reward for success is most generous

  


"And you kidnapped this 'Jack-Jack', didn't you? Where _is_ he?" Bela hissed, before throwing another jab across their prisoner's cheek.

The blow took off what remained of Asmodeus' cheek, exposing the bone. Ruby saw her glance at her ring, the one she and Meg had given her upon their proposal. It was covered in bloody tissue and soaked in red. No matter, they'd have it cleaned. Unlike the rest of the throne room at Needham, covered wall to wall and ceiling to floor with blood.

"I! Lost! Him!" Asmodeus screamed, spitting in Bela's face. 

Meg, their precious Mighty Mouse, gripped his jaw and with a single crack, the hinge from his left mandible broke. "Try that again, Colonel Sanders, and I'll rip your jaw off completely. Comprende, buddy?"

"Blame the Winchestehs," Asmodeus growled in pain, unable to speak properly. 

"Meghan, _my love,_ I appreciate that," Bela cooed, "however, we do still need him to talk." The fingers of her right hand delicately wove through the tresses of their Mighty Mouse's deep brown hair. 

Ruby grabbed Asmodeus' hair from behind him and ripped his head back. "What do they have to do with this?"

Amsodeus gurgled, "Lucifeh killed the angel. They took his kid, the Nephil. They have no idea dhe poweh he..has."

"My unicorn is dead?" Meg asked in vague disappointment.

Ruby flashed her black eyes in jealousy. That feathered moron had gotten in the way of she and Sam. Now it seemed he still held an echo of favor from her wife. Even from beyond the grave that angel managed to piss her off. 

"So you decided to take him for yourself, use him to awaken the Shedim…" Ruby trailed off.

In the position Asmodeus's neck was in, he couldn't speak well. "Thied."

"That was a mistake. Cthulu won't be pleased," Ruby murmured before snapping his neck as easily as exhaling. 

They'd been out for ages, doing the Dark interdimensional Lord's bidding. He was just so powerful and able to yank them from the Empty. How could they resist?

Her wives glared at her in irritation. She assuaged their fears, "Would you both relax? All we have to do is follow the path of demonic and celestial destruction leading us to the Brothers Grimm, alright?" 

Ruby prowled over to Bela and took her hand, kissing away the blood and skin from Asmodeus's cheek. Her eyes never strayed from Bela's and drew a smile from their dark princess. Shoving over the carcass of Asmodeus, Ruby sat on the Throne and pulled Bela onto her lap. Her fingers trailed down the open back of Bela's shirt, eliciting shivers and causing her eyes to go black in lust. 

"In the meantime," she softly spoke in Bela's ear while setting her sights on Meg, standing behind her, "let's indulge in the appetite we've worked up, for nostalgia's sake. No place like home, after all."

Meg smirked in glee and massaged Bela's shoulders into relaxation, while Ruby raked her teeth down her neck. Bela's plump ass always felt so good in Ruby's hands. She kneaded them to inch her closer. 

Meg untied the thin strings holding the backless top and draped it around her own neck so Bela's luscious scent saturated her senses. Ruby adored how Meg endeavored to have the most immersive experiences during sex. She'd no idea how precious she was. 

Under Ruby's attention, Bela's pliant body rippled with goosebumps, her breath hitching when soft full lips reached her neck. It was beautiful how in tune they'd become. When Ruby began pressing her lips like shooting stars down Bela's neck and chest, Meg slid her hands around to cup Bela's breasts, knowing what Ruby wanted. 

Latching on hard to Bela's nipple, Ruby heard her gasp and bow herself into the dark kiss, and felt when their princesses hand gently held her head, indicating her sweet lips were most welcome to stay put. While Meg whispered demonic nothings in her ear, the hand not cupping the breast on which Ruby was devouring, retreated and toyed with her own through the thin material. It wouldn't be long before it headed south, just as Ruby's was. 

Bela was of course already dripping wet, making Ruby smile in silent delight. Meg had told her bedtime stories of how their little princess Bela would quiver and scream on the rack. Slowly, over the millenia, she came to appreciate Meg's skilled hand with a blade and fierce strength of character. Now, when given the opportunity to enact stunning displays of violence, their princess pooled down below in anticipation for all the depravity she could withstand. For all the focus they wished to rain on her.

Ruby thanked the stars for whomever invented high grade tactical stretch cotton pants, yielding access to Bela's weeping pussy. As she slid two fingers in, curling them against that sweet spot and pulling them out to rub her clit, Bela bucked on her lap and leaned back into Meg to allow Ruby a better position. There was untold pleasure in witnessing their Mighty Mouse's hand moving inside her own stretch tacticals, getting herself off from their games.

Unbeknownst to them, Ruby's skin also broke out in goosebumps, watching Meg cup and squeeze Bela's beautiful breast, rubbing the wet nipple in her lips’ absence. 

"Ruby.." Bela moaned in a hushed whisper, "make me come. _Please._ "

The sight of this princess seeking Meg’s lips, while begging for her pussy to be loved and brought to orgasm, had Ruby nearly coming on the Throne untouched. Her wives would be touching her soon though, and oh, how she looked forward to it. There were several bedrooms in Needham, Ruby just wanted to rub one out of Bela because she needed priming before a marathon. 

"Oh princess, she will. Has our gorgeous wife ever left either of us in less than a purely satisfied and exhausted condition?"

Bela was so desperate to come she could only shake her head.

"Watch her, princess. I want to see you taking in how perfectly she wrings out that orgasm for you right in her lap. C'mon princess Peach, look back down."

As Bela obeyed, Ruby rewarded her by resuming the delicious assault. She slid her fingers inside once more and quickened the pace. "That's it, this is just a quickie. A taste before we move somewhere more comfortable."

Ruby loved how patient Meg was to get in on the action; her heavy lidded eyes stayed open though, not wanting to miss a second. That deserved a reward as well and would be paid in spades, once they moved the party down south. 

"Uh..right there, yes..yes…" Bela moaned as Ruby rubbed her clit in soft circles then dipped back inside her. 

"That's it Bela, so close princess...C'mon, come in my hand, Babygirl. Almost there."

Bela froze while her muscle walls contracted hard around Ruby's fingers. Her hand grasped for Meg and pulled her hair when finding a few locks to hold for stability. Their Mighty Mouse didn't complain as she was huffing and sighing into Bela's ear as well. 

Ruby maniacally grinned. "Mmmm, I love it when a plan _comes_ together."

Meg kissed Bela sweetly as both came down from the blissful cloud. Then pulled Ruby up from the throne and lavished kisses on their wife while taking turns helping her achieve what the pesky nuisance, _humanity,_ had coined 'indecent exposure.'

All of a sudden they heard and felt the call of their Dark Lord.

•°**••'•○`•

Their eyes went opaque and each smiled at each other when singing simultaneously, " _Salutations, Cthulu."_

•°▪︎`¤**•

Ruby elucidated, "Asmodeus' use has run dry. The summoner resides with the Winchesters."

•°°¤○*`*•

Each blushed under the praise and reprieve given, hugging each other. " _Yes, Lord Cthulu_. Tomorrow. Thank you."

The three held hands and strode down the descending hall of Needham, to a room where Bela looked beyond eager to reciprocate the love and attention her wives saw fit to bless her with. Tomorrow would bring a demonic assault on the Winchesters. But tonight was a reward for Cthulu's Angels.


	2. Love is Love is Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Patience shares with Jack a worrisome matter of the heart, she finds trust, support, and a level of empathy she never expected.
> 
> Thanks to my beta tfw-cas, for saving me..again!

  


"Patience, is something wrong?" Jack carefully prodded as he sat beside her on a bench at school for lunch.

She shrugged, but didn't confirm either way. "Why do you ask?"

"You haven't raised your hand in class once in two weeks, given the crimson wave excuse for sitting out in volleyball, and haven't voluntarily smiled in I don't know how long."

Her eyes bugged wide when commenting, "Observant much?"

"I get a vibe."

She sighed, painfully.

"I want to help. Maybe I can even relate-depending on what it is of course," he quickly clarified, lest it be something like said crimson wave, or another femine nightmare to which he definitely  _ could not _ relate.

She pleaded, "You've got to promise you won't tell anyone.  _ I mean it, Jack." _

Holding his hand up as if swearing on the Holy Bible, he strictly promised.

"Claire and Kaia.." she started, but then tapered off.

"They're your best friends, but you haven't sat with them for days. What's going on?"

Her lips trembled and her brows furrowed as if she were on the verge of tears. "I don't know how to tell them."

Jack placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Tell them what?"

Her face bore the expression of terror and misery. "You ever have a secret that you're sure if you confessed to the people it's about, it would ruin everything?

Jack's face went bone white when nodding "yes."

Wringing her hands, Patience continued. "Not sure how to tell..to explain...I'minlovewithClaireANDKaiaAnddon'tknowhowtotellthemorevenifIwantto."

She burst into tears but tried keeping herself quiet as she leaned into Jack. She also noted in doing so he'd gone as still as a statue. 

"Sorry. TMI. Totally not okay and I crossed the line. I'm sorry," she apologized while quickly wiping her eyes. 

"No! No! It's fine. More than fine actually. Um, you'll have to tell them eventually. But I understand how hard this must be for you," Jack offered in a soothing tone.

"How could you understand?" She outright asked.

He appeared to be dithering over something. "This is kind of crummy, so last minute given it’s only a few nights away, but do you want to go to prom with me? Just as friends, promise."

"You aren't going with Krissy? I thought you had a big crush on her."

"I do. But Alfie asked first. Nice guys finish last I guess," he sounded extremely disappointed.

"That's not true. I've seen the way she looks at you. Maybe she likes you and Alfie and he just asked first."

He shrugged. "Yeah, maybe."

"I'll go with you, sure. It'll be nice not having the pressure of a  _ date _ , date," Patience seemed to cheer up a little, by the tone of her voice.

"That's exactly what I was thinking. And you can talk to me as much as you want about your situation," he offered.

"Same with yours," she agreed. 

_ Three nights later … _

Jack pulled up to Patience's house in his 1967 blue Malibu Super Sport. He looked quite the dapper gent in his semi-formals and holding a corsage. Her father answered the door and welcomed him in. 

James warmly issued, "I'm pleased you're taking her, it can be even more fun going with a friend. Plus, I trust you." 

Jack chuckled and spotted Patience at the top of the stairs. "There she is, Miss America.." he sang and smiled wide at her. 

She laughed and gave him the beauty pageant wave. 

Jack said with sincerity, "You're beautiful, I'm a lucky friend."

"You are. But you're looking great too."

Mr. Turner took a few pictures while they exchanged the corsage and boutonnier, and gave her a hug before they headed out.

At the prom, the music was really hopping. The theme was "Through the Decades", and Smashing Pumpkins’  _ Today was the greatest _ blared loudly from the gym. 

As the line moved closer to the entrance her heart thundered faster and faster in her chest. When they walked through a few minutes later, Bush's  _ Machinehead _ was amping up the dance’s vibe, and she felt almost dizzy as Gavin Rosdale's gritty voice sang the opening lyrics, "Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out." 

That was all Patience could do while spying Claire and Kaia nearby, waving to her with longing and confusion in their eyes. She felt awful. They'd done nothing to deserve her shutting them out like she had, and the ache from it had begun to make her stomach turn.

"Hey," Jack gently nudged to pull her attention from them, "have you thought of a game plan yet?"

"No. I'm such a jerk. If I tell them, at best it'll make our friendship really uncomfortable. Worst case scenario, it's gonna ruin it. Even worse, it's gonna destroy everything if one of them likes me back. I don't know what to do!"

"I'm here. I'm gonna be here no matter what. You're not the only one who can’t decide who they have a crush on," Jack cautiously confessed. 

"What? I know you like Krissy, but who else? Jack, sorry but I don't feel-"

"It's Alfie. I like both Alfie  _ and _ Krissy," Jack stated with anguish on his face. 

Patience's shock had her mouth forming a perfectly round "O". "Wow, okay. You really,  _ really _ understand then. I'm sorry. Can I help you? What do we do?"

Jack sighed and swirled her around the dance floor. "We smile. Everyday. And at some point, when a fair opportunity presents itself, we be honest with them."

Patience got the chills when thinking how painful it would be to lose one or both friends. But Jack was right. "And we prove that we can stay friends because that’s the most important relationship."

Jack nodded. "Friends first. Always." 

A slow song came on and Patience curled into his comfortable hug. "Do you think Alfie might have feelings for you too?"

"No idea. But if I can keep them as friends if neither feels the same, then I have to be okay with that," he answered with his chin on top of her head as they swayed from side to side. 

Each danced and chatted, occasionally spying their respective crushes having fun together. Patience was beyond relieved and thankful to have such a good friend and fellow commiserator in Jack. But at one point, when a particularly heartbreaking song was played, she couldn't help her tears and excused herself to the ladies room. 

Locking herself in a stall, she cried her heart out, hearing the principal announce the Prom Royalty. It was Claire and Kaia, the school's first Prom Queens. She could hear her fellow students cheering loudly, and she really was truly happy for her friends. It was a monumental event for both girls and the LGBTQ students. 

A little while later she was cleaning herself up and "powdering her face" as it were, when Claire and Kaia both came into the bathroom. Their crowns were beautiful, and they'd both found stunning gowns of blue and green. 

"Patience, what's wrong? We've been trying to call and text for weeks. We miss you so much. Did we do something wrong?" They asked. 

"No! It's not you at all. It's me, I just...it's, I'm sorry!" She broke out in sobs. 

They both surrounded her with hugs and kissed her forehead and cheeks. "Please tell us, we love you. You're hurting and we want to help. But we can't until you tell us how."

"It'll destroy everything. This. Us."

The girls exchanged weighted glances. "We have a question, but we were afraid it would ruin our friendship too. But your eighteenth birthday is two months away and we decided we'd wait to talk to you about it then, once we're the same age."

"Talk about what? What's wrong with me being a few months younger than you?" Patience now was practically levitating from curiosity.

"We've noticed how you look at us. Together and apart. And we weren't sure, if..you..if" Kaia had trouble finishing her sentence and her cheeks were bright red. 

Claire came to the rescue. "If you have a crush on us. Because if you don't, that's okay. We love our friendship. But if you do, we really like you too, and you wouldn't have to choose." 

Patience was floored. She couldn't be more shocked if someone had slapped her across the face and given her a million dollars. 

"Y-you love me too?"

Both girls nodded, with smiles and a few tears of their own.

"I love you! I didn’t want to mess everything up by telling you. But I really love you!" She cried and hugged them. 

Claire and Kaia gave her the sweetest kisses that had her heart flying a mile a minute. 

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner then. It was hard figuring out what to do."

"We've been having a really hard time with it too. You're our best friend and that's never going to change, but we were scared how you'd take it," Kaia said, extremely relieved. 

Patience grinned brightly. "I'm happy. Really happy."

The three held hands walking out of the bathroom, and Patience vowed to herself when looking through the throngs of students in the gym for Jack, that she'd help him with his dilemma. He had been a great support for her. So she'd be there for him no matter the outcome. Because love is love after all.

  
  



	3. Prince of Talladega Knights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When age related issues threaten to hinder a special night for Ramiel, his beloved Knights let him know just how much they worship him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my fantastic beta and friend, tfw-cas, for helping with this ficlet, which so far is my fav!

  


"How're you feeling?" Cain asked Ramiel.

Abaddon watched him lean in closer to Ramiel against the bar. Drying a pint glass, she gazed at her old man and lovingly smiled, then winked at Cain.

Ramiel contentedly replied, "Feeling pretty good."

"How was church?" She wanted to know, having arrived twenty minutes after it ended, when the last club member finally trickled out.

"Smooth, mostly. The Bike for Cancer ride's coming up next week, then veterans breakfast the morning after," he informed.

Cain grumbled about their "problem" member. "Azazel's still gunning for Alastair, ‘cause he supposedly 'stole' his old woman." 

Abaddon confirmed, "Even though she left him ‘cause he's been messing around with Dagon's girl."

"He's close to a third suspension," Ramiel assured while swiping keys to lock up for the night, "something tells me he'll have five in no time. Things are finally quiet in town. No new chapters requesting permission to move in, local scraps have all been settled."

Abaddon noticed Ramiel’s voice dropping slightly, when affectionately tucking a gorgeous strand of salt and pepper hair behind Cain's ear then continuing, "You've fought hard with me to keep order on the streets, I won't let him tear down what we've built here."

She was helpless to hide her internal glow around them as it often shined, when watching these two soul mates interact. Though Ramiel and Cain hadn't been physically intimate in twenty two years since Colette's death, she felt the constant love between them still burning brightly. Like Colette, she'd known her husband loved another man, but had plenty of room in his heart for her as well. They were a package deal, which both she and Colette had embraced ever since they'd all met at the Sturgis bike rally back in '95. 

Her death in '97 had devastated them all, but none so painfully as Cain, who'd sexually withdrawn from Ramiel in his grief. As much as it hurt her husband, Ramiel understood and chose to accept his emotional love just the same. After Colette, Cain had essentially married Abaddon and Ramiel in the emotional sense. He'd moved in with them and did everything a loving threesome normally did, minus the sex. 

The sex between her and Ramiel had always been phenomenal. Yet, as of late, age had begun catching up with him, due to that pesky Erectile Dysfunction. They'd tried everything: massage, mischievous foreplay, daily exercise, they'd even brought Cain into the mix as far as playing the truth part in Truth or Dare like they were teens doing something taboo, to see if it added a little spice. It had, but Abaddon knew it still wore on Ramiel, when starting strong but whose challenge lay in crossing the finish line. Tonight would bring something different, special. 

Cain reaffirmed,"We're not giving Azazel or anyone a chance to break what we've got here. Especially not tonight. Happy Fifteenth ball and chain-a-versary to you both. Ready to get home and have some fun?" 

Abaddon was greatly looking forward to the unique arrangement the three of them had been discussing for weeks now. She gauged her husband's demeanor as surprisingly shy, yet full of warm anticipation. 

"Hell yes," Ramiel delivered with a special twinkle in his eye for Cain. 

Abaddon grabbed her keys and blew a kiss to them both, as she closed the bar and hopped onto her Victory Gunner. She only had a few more things to set up at home, and wanted it to be perfect for her guys when they walked in. 

August was sweltering in the south, so when cruising through the door she stripped down, wearing naught but her black two piece with flaming devils on each boob. She left her hair up given the heat. Ice was chilling in the bucket out back by the pool for their drinks, right next to the huge watermelon salad.The patio speakers played the satellite radio's classic rock, tiki lights softly glowed, illuminating their luscious backyard.

Admittedly, the butterflies were fluttering in her stomach, because even though she was deeply in love with Cain every bit as much as her legal husband, they'd never so much as kissed. Perhaps it was the fierce trust and communication they'd tirelessly worked for over the last two decades which kept the more intense nerves at bay. That, and her excitement for Ramiel.

Abaddon heard the guys pulling their bikes into the driveway and quickly verified everything was in place, then hid while listening to them enter.

"She's left us a note," Cain observed then read it aloud, "Pool party for three. Leathers off, shorts on. Feeling brave? Wear nothing and see what I don."

"Alright, alright, alright. She knows what she's doing," Ramiel sang.

She spied them minutes later as they mosied on to the patio and found the table with watermelon, the ice, whiskey, and ginger ale. Cain served himself up a tumbler of Jack Daniel's Honey, and poured the soda for Ramiel, who didn't drink. Two rattan chairs welcomed them by the pool and as soon as they settled in, she set the music to some Joan Jett and began a burlesque style routine she'd been saving for quite a while.

She'd kept herself in magnificent condition; ensuring the guys ate well meant she ate well too, and worked out to keep her stamina up for all kinds of adventurous fuckery. It'd been twenty five years since her burlesque days, and yet no one would know as she slowly came out within their view from behind the side patio.

Her boobie devils on the swimsuit top lit up and flashed like neon signs, a joyful find at a specialized boutique in Omaha one year. She held a red gossamer boa around her neck, and a sheer black robe barely covering what the good underlord gave her. The butterflies mildly abated when noticing both men wearing mile wide grins and literally nothing else. Abaddon always had a thing for older men, and these two gents were just so goddamned beautiful it nearly broke her heart. Yet, she had both of theirs, and showed her gratitude everyday by giving all of hers to both. 

Waltzing around Ramiel on her left, she wrapped the red boa around his neck and alternated soft tugs on the left and right ends. They gently tickled his stomach and happy trail below, leading down to his impeccably manscaped southern region. He had a light in his eyes for her and laughed, before she blessed him with a teasing peck on the lips. 

Next she slithered in front of Cain, letting the robe tie loosen so the material slipped, revealing a little shoulder. Sitting on his right leg she leaned in; he bent forward to kiss the smooth, exposed skin, but she playfully pulled away. Standing up, she bumped one knee to the side, then the other. He sat back, pointedly placing both hands on his drink and gave her a warm smile. 

Of all the times they'd had blatant, scandalous conversations, she'd never so directly engaged him in seductive play with the mutual intent to venture into uncharted territory. The soft hunger in his eyes for her was new. It stoked the fires of physical desire while melting her smitten heart. She twirled the ends of the robe ties, baiting him into reaching for them. He shook his head at her and grinned, so she turned her back to him, sliding on his lap after he moved his glass. Abaddon shimmied the same skin free of the robe again and lay back, resting her head on Cain's left shoulder. 

He turned to Ramiel whispering, "You are one lucky sonuvabitch, ya know that?" before he sweetly peppered her skin with kisses and rubbed the skin with his thumb.

She heard her husband scoff and reply, "She loves you too. We're both lucky." 

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Ramiel's hand gently squeeze Cain's, then hold it. Cain's left hand grazed across her neckline and up her chin. 

"And I love her very much as well," he said while holding her tightly, kissing along her jawline. 

The vibration against her jaw, paired with the words themselves had her nipples hardening and the juices pooling downstairs. She flipped around quicker than lightning and settled in his lap, facing him. Running her fingers through his stunning mane, Abaddon rested her forehead against Cain's. He'd all but said it everyday in his actions, but hearing it in an intimate moment gave her a sudden attack of the feels. 

"Now that doesn't come as a surprise, does it?" Cain queried in surprised amusement at her reaction.

"Hearing it sure sounds nice." She spared a glance in Ramiel's direction to assess him one last time and when finding nothing short of contentedness, she turned to Cain and kissed him deeply. His beard didn't bother her, Ramiel had always sported one, and it was such a kink-waking up sore as Hell with beard burn on her thighs.

Having set his drink down, Cain kissed her back slowly. Both arms pulled her by her tiny waist further up his lap, so she could snuggle and grind right up against his magnificent length. Lust and love were pumping through her veins like a fuel injector on steroids. She felt him take down her hair so his fingers could lace through the fiery locks and gently tug to the rhythm of her sultry movements against his dick. His lips confessed upon hers, the inferno he carried within. 

Abaddon's heart thundered in her chest. If she didn't cool her jets, the night meant for Ramiel would become the opposite of what all three had hoped to experience. But damn, the yearning from Cain stole her breath along with any coherent words she may've been inclined to share. So she salvaged the situation the only way she knew how. With violence. 

Coming up for air, she reached behind his chair for an object she'd taped to the back and flashed him a wicked smile. 

"All's fair in love and war," she sang before taking aim with her Fortnite Nerf water hand cannon, firing at his boomstick.

The look of surprise on his face was worth breaking the kiss. Abaddon tore off behind the patio, laughing her ass off. Once again she listened to them figuring out their next move.

"Looks like you've got one behind your chair too," she heard Cain noticing. He chuckled when finding a third water cannon taped underneath his seat. 

One must've squirted the other, because the water cannon's contents were suddenly questioned.

"What is that? Tastes like.. strong honey?" Ramiel asked.

Cain either tasted or smelled it and asserted, "Came from my gun. Jack Daniel's Honey. So yours must be…" she could hear him smacking his lips after a taste, "Yep, ginger ale. Damn, I love her." 

Abaddon smiled to herself and waited for the games to begin. The music shifted to Blondie's One Way or Another, and she slipped quietly into the side bathroom which was accessible from the backyard and led into the house. She draped her robe over a kitchen bar stool, downed a few more shots of Jack before swiping a second cannon, and crept back out the sliding patio doors.

When she failed to spot either man at first glance, she carefully stepped out and spied Cain under the huge hammock and Ramiel hiding behind the covered swing. Sprinting across a small grassy space, Abbadon launched herself off the concrete, twisted sideways, aimed both guns at the guys and landed in the deep end of the pool. Her grouping needed work sure, but she hoped if nothing else, it at least looked cool. 

Before her head breached the surface for air, she felt two big sloshes of water displacement. Taking her first gulp of air, it was revealed a couple of eager bodies awaited her as they lovingly sandwiched her between them. Cain's fiery kisses greeted her from the front, while Ramiel's sure arms pulled her back flush with his welcoming form, moving in the direction of more shallow water.

When they'd reached water she could stand in, she put her arms around Cain and kissed him with unrestrained enthusiasm. His lips were sweet, but it was his exploring, honey flavored tongue she quickly latched onto and sucked, which had her heart racing back to flying a thousand miles a minute.

Then Ramiel's hand pulled aside her wet hair and his lips caressed the thrumming pulse in her neck. His hands kept her hips firmly in place, and he brushed his thick cock against the cleft of her ass through the swimsuit. Anticipation burned in her belly for what delicious surprises awaited her from these two. 

Abaddon adored how much her wonderful men loved each other. In the quietest place of her heart, she longed to see them making love. It was a subject she never broached with them for fear it would be misconstrued as a mere fetish, and damage the powerful trust they'd all built. 

Never wanting to give any reason to doubt her love for them independently, she worked to demonstrate this in every action as well as words. But she couldn't help but wonder what seeing their physical love would be like and the thought of it now, when the three of them were so close, left a devastating ache between her legs.

Cain's hands moved from her cheek past her hips and behind her, to grip her husband's ass and pull them all together. Abaddon felt how well the touch was received, because Ramiel sunk his teeth into her neck and his dick quickly swelled even more, as his grinding into her intensified.

Her hand brushed Cain's hair away from his neck while she kissed the outline of his jaw and tugged at his beard, nipping with her teeth. When making it to his neck, she tilted her own far to her right and leaned into him as much as possible. Just as she'd hoped, she could feel Ramiel taking Cain's face, bringing him closer. 

Please kiss. Please kiss. The tensing muscles in Cain's neck and the tilt of his head to the left indicated that for the first time in over twenty years Cain and Ramiel were kissing. Thankful for the water's splash, she was glad it hid her tears. Abaddon's husband loved her with a passion that could light the world on fire, but she knew with every fiber of her being that the torch he carried for Cain all these years burned with no less intensity. They'd been together first, after all. 

Hot tears spilled onto Cain's shoulder and into their pool, as waterfalls of relief and joy her men were finally enjoying each other again. They were holding each other every bit as much as they were holding her and their love was a solar turbocharge to her soul. The affection shared went through Abaddon, including her, rather than going around. If there was any doubt about taking this step, it fell away into nothingness the moment Cain and Ramiel's lips touched. 

With her right hand, she traced the arm winding around past her to Cain, and covered the hand which rested at the small of his back with her own. The three of them stayed suspended like this, overwhelmed but exceedingly happy in each other's company. And their night was just warming up. 

"Nice move with the squirt guns, Little Hellion." Ramiel's hand was satin on her skin as his fingers slid down the front of the swimsuit bottom, almost reaching the slick skin. She'd paid an exorbitant amount of attention to the area that morning, during her shaving routine. 

"Keep your weapons close, boys. We can have more fun later."

Cain steered Ramiel's hand from its current course and playfully replied, "I'm very much looking forward to tasting the fruits of your labor, Little Demon. But let's not dilute the flavor in the pool. I don't want any distractions." 

Ramiel's hand was correction-coursed from underneath Abbadon's swimsuit to Cain's impressively hard cock with breathtaking confidence. Just as she suspected, Cain had been the top in their dynamic, and how yummy indeed. Goosebumps from that revelation appeared as a rash all over her body, despite the evening’s warmth and the two smoking hot men surrounding her.   
And suddenly her husband's dick was hard as nails against her ass. Good lawd, yisss.

"My attention Sir," Ramiel grinned and gripped Cain's cock, falling into a rhythm like riding a bike, "you fucking have it."

"Aaand I can vouch for that," she pleasantly reported. Abaddon was reeling in excitement, this was absolutely the 'spicing up' her husband was needing as of late, and she wasn't offended in the slightest. 

In fact, the way he leisurely refamiliarized himself with Cain between her belly and his was doing things to her. A different hand going down the front of her swimsuit, relentlessly teased and nearly took her over the edge by the threat of proximity to her happy button alone. 

Abaddon watched Cain reach past her to sweetly touch Ramiel's face, while continuing his talented assault on her. 

"I'm sorry I took so long recapturing it," Cain professed to Ramiel. 

Abaddon could let this ride out another thirty seconds; she was mightily tempted, given Cain had barely even tiptoed through her proverbial tulips and the pressure was building fast down below. Yet she knew it would be so much better if she waited; if they moved the party inside so she could watch, as well as feel, the delights unfolding. 

"No apologies tonight," she insisted, and turned around to face Ramiel. Taking his cock in her hand to make her point crystal clear, she clarified, "from either of you tonight, about anything. Why don't you both rinse off and I'll meet you inside, hm?"

Both men silently nodded and kissed her cheeks. Every emotional nerve was firing off inside her as she absorbed the affection radiating from them. She couldn’t wait to get back inside. The guys grabbed their guns and mosied on in the house. Abaddon swiftly put things away as fast as Mary Poppins herself. But she was also mindful of the two men down the hall who hadn't been this intimate with each other for a very long time. 

Cain clearly had things he needed to voice to Ramiel, things which had nothing to do with her, and she wanted to allow him the time and privacy to do that. He had nothing to apologize for. Everyone handled grief differently and even in his hurt, Ramiel had understood that. Nevertheless, she wanted to give them a few precious minutes to find their new equilibrium together.

Abaddon pressed the button in one of the strings of her bikini top to turn the flashing devils on, and slithered down the hall. She had no idea what she'd find, but the scene when rounding the corner into their master bedroom stopped her in her tracks. The crook of Cain's arm cradled Ramiel's head, his hand gently rubbed his cheek while they kissed on the bed. His other hand was lazily rubbing his cock, which Abaddon had not seen that hard in a long time. Something about the intimacy of the moment made her hesitant to disturb them just yet. 

She realized she was content whether or not she joined the party. Ramiel's muscles were incredibly relaxed, and a peace had settled in him unlike any she'd seen in a long time. The night was for him and he was definitely getting what he needed. As Abaddon leaned against the door frame watching them, a lustful heat inside her was building again. 

Then both guys launched an unexpected water assault on her from the bed. Squealing, she closed her eyes so she wouldn't get booze in them and held her hands to shield herself, but it was pointless. She was doused in whisky and ginger ale, which now dripped from her face, boobs, stomach, and legs. 

The guys rocketed off the bed and playfully pulled her back down with them, covering her with clean up kisses. 

"As much as I enjoy these flashing lights, I'm afraid this needs to go," Cain insisted before tugging the string behind her neck, freeing one breast. 

Ramiel mischievously grabbed Cain's gun and squirted her boob. She shivered not from the temperature but anticipation, as Cain cupped her breast and sucked the whiskey dribbling down from her nipple. Each time he sucked a wider radius around it, her hips squirmed from her growing need to be touched more. Her husband knew her so well and loosened the other string, ravenously latching on to her other tit, squeezing and kneading. Abaddon's respirations were increasing, having both breasts given such attention had her damn near levitating with pure lust. 

Cain grabbed his gun back and squirted some whiskey in his mouth. He crept back up to her and kissed her deeply, sharing the honey Jack which she eagerly took. While Cain momentarily had her mouth occupied, Ramiel continued to suck on her nipple and began divesting her of her bottom swimsuit. 

When eagerly shimmying out of it, Cain was already poised to strike with the gun again and got her right in the money shot. She gasped and Cain briefly shut her mouth with his own. Just the thought alone of having his honey flavored tongue kissing her pussy nearly had her coming untouched. 

He let his tongue dance around hers, giving her an enticing preview of what to expect from his oral talent, and she was glad she wasn't standing otherwise she would've been so weak in the knees as to collapse. 

"I'm jonesin' for a taste of my Little Demon," he said while sweetly nuzzling their noses.

"Fruit of the Gods my friend," Ramiel sighed to Cain. 

Abbaddon was fuzzy in the brain from the attention and praise, and only became moreso when watching Cain take Ramiel by the chin and meld their lips together, no doubt giving him some lovely tongue action too. She never imagined the three of them could be this damn good together, and tried not to blink for missing out on even a nanosecond second of their passionate kissing right over her heaving chest. 

"Go on now, take care of my Little Hellion as only you can…" Ramiel cooed to him. 

"Oh I shall," he replied with a fire in his eyes that Abbadon was certain rendered her sterile. 

Next thing she knew, Cain was yanking her hips down the bed so he could kneel at the foot of it comfortably, while he wrought upon her whatever magic he had planned. Ramiel cradled her head and kissed her nose. "He's so good, Cain's mouth is like Heaven. 

Ramiel kissed her deeply, stealing her breath away. At that same moment she also felt a deliciously firm flick of Cain's tongue around her clit and him sighing in awe before ruthlessly diving right in. With a whimper, her thighs began quivering. It was as if Cain were taking, no devouring, a blessed sacrament, and he was Hell bent on consuming it all. Abaddon's hands were grasping at the bed comforter, gripping folds of fabric, but it wasn't enough. She barely breathed from how hard her head spun. 

"Sshh, shshh..I know little one, I know," Ramiel whispered, and moved her searching hand around his cock. 

During foreplay when it was just them, she loved stroking it when he was showering her with attention. The more she got off, the harder he became, and she adored the feeling of him growing in her hand.

Ramiel continued kissing her and lightly sucking on her tongue, attempting to mimic the sensation of Cain down below. His rhythm was so on point it sent her into orbit, writhing on the bed. Cain's strong hands squeezed her lower thighs, holding her in place, but allowing her a little wiggle room. 

Ramiel's pumping dick in her hand, his mouth on hers, Cain's tongue hitting all the good spots inside, then withdrawing and running along her slit up to her happy button had her aching and more desperate to come than she'd ever been in her life. Her husband pinched and played with her nipples, while Cain took both her ass cheeks and squeezed, pressing her harder against his mouth and his tongue ever deeper inside.

"Come for me my Little Demon," Cain implored with such a sweetness to his yearning that she reached that peak, violently shaking when going over the edge, screaming into Ramiel's mouth. 

It was some time before her trembling calmed, when realizing she'd shed tears from the emotionally overwhelming experience. But Cain was still generously bringing her down from that cloud with an astounding gentleness. He began placing wet kisses up her belly slowly, then along her sternum between the creamy peaks. 

She sat up a bit, held his face, then tightly hugged him. "That mouth of yours will haunt me."

"You. Are. Extraordinary. I'll gladly haunt you anytime you like," he pleasantly smiled at her. 

Then he turned to Ramiel with a glimmer of mischief in his eye and drew him in for a kiss. "Mmmm, I'm happy to say it's your turn, my Prince. Whaddya say, how 'bout a mustache ride?" 

"Make it a double. I wanna show him how much I've missed him," Ramiel prompted. 

"You guys are gonna be the death of me, I swear. This is so hot." Abaddon slithered down the bed to switch places with Cain, while he kicked his feet to the head of the bed to lay comfortably on his side. Propping his head up under his arm, he reached for Ramiel and Abaddon's jaw dropped to the floor, witnessing how easily Cain and her husband fit together. Two gorgeous puzzle pieces. And oh how luscious it was, seeing her husband getting his dick loved on by another man, and adoring it. Jesus H. Christ, was she pooling wet again? 

Cain greedily took Ramiel's full length easily down his throat, and she heard the sinful moan in response. Cain's proclivity for giving oral was mind blowing, and she couldn't get enough of how hard Ramiel was. She was painfully torn between watching her husband fallated with a talent that had her nethers twitching all over again, and sneaking a peek at how he looked when waxing Cain's pole. 

"Now where are my manners," Cain apologized when pulling off Ramiel's swollen head with a wet pop and pointing it in her direction, "there's plenty for the both of us."

Her eyes widened and she gladly took him up on the offer. He stroked while she sucked and Cain decided to multitask by loving on the heavy boys below. Ramiel huffed and moaned at the extra attention, he was so relaxed and having such a good time, it made Abaddon's heart sing with joy for him. 

And then she caught Cain pausing with half a ball in his mouth, staring at her intensely. Abaddon monitored it, wondering what he was doing. She figured it out when changing things up a bit and letting Ramiel have a bit more control with his thrust. He was studying her, observing her technique to possibly learn something new. 

Both she and Cain knew Ramiel inside and out, literally. Yet each relationship saw to different needs. When Cain had taken himself out of the sexual equation, Abaddon adapted to fulfill that need, as best she could. 

"Thank you for loving him this way when I couldn't," he softly conveyed his appreciation. 

"Thank you for never leaving and coming back to him when you were ready," she replied, kissing him with love and gratitude, "We love you. Always have."

She saw the storm of guilt in his eyes, which was his cross to bear. It would take time for her and Ramiel to chip away at it, reminding him how deeply he was loved and that they'd never felt abandoned by him. Cain had never stopped loving them, and demonstrated this love everyday. He was here now, that's all that mattered.

Well that, and Ramiel's needy cock throbbing right between their faces. Both tag teamed the task literally in hand, sucking, kissing, and rubbing Ramiel's dick. It went on and on, the three of them just lost in each other. Several times Cain had to pause, not wanting to finish just yet. At one point Abaddon began to clue in that he was either attempting to make Ramiel come via their current method, or was holding out in case they needed to change tactics. 

After sometime, Abaddon began spotting the signs; Ramiel appeared to be nearing orgasm then he'd stall out; his breathing became more labored despite ample opportunity to catch his breath during lulls in the frenzy. 

Despite both her and Cain switching their pace, intensity, who had twig and who had the berries there would be no change, and pulling out the stops they'd each logged into memory as his sure things..she was certain if they didn't try something new soon, Ramiel would have no energy left, even if the spirit was willing and moving.

Abaddon sensed Cain was also aware and exchanging one quick glance, he pulled himself to sitting. One look from Ramiel and she knew he was upset and disappointed in himself. But Cain was ready, so before an 'I'm sorry' could cross Ramiel's mind, he cuddled him close. 

"My Prince," Cain spoke with reverence while running his fingers through his hair, "our Little Demon is ready for another round and I want to be inside you, feeling you moving inside her."

The suggestion had her so wet she almost blushed, but instead took Ramiel's hand. Abaddon showed him the truth in Cain's words, distracting him from the current issue by giving him a different reason altogether to try something new.

He seemed to want an out while leaving them to keep the good times rolling. "Maybe you and her want to...I can take a break and uh, watch."

Yet Cain reassured that he wanted him. "I'll have her soon. That's something I'm very much looking forward to. But there's no reason you can't have both of us," he reached back to gently stroke him in hopes of convincing, "using both of us to make you come sounds pretty nice, doesn't it?"

To drive home the point he twisted his head on the upstroke and felt him harden a little more. "Feeling like pitching and catching tonight?"

Abaddon knew her husband was sold on the prospect based on the gleam in his eye. "I really want to feel you getting yourself off like this."

"Can't say no to that," Ramiel grinned. 

"I want you sweet and slow," Cain stated while she wiggled onto her back, indicating she wanted to try it missionary style. 

She couldn't lie, getting a look into Ramiel’s eyes while using them both was delicious. Cain was a cherry on top she never thought she'd get, let alone the first night trying this new dynamic. Watching with eagerness as Cain swiped some lube off the nightstand and slicked himself up, her eyes widened when he began to prep her husband. Ramiel's eyes fluttered as he hovered over her, allowing himself to be fingered open. Abaddon thought it a brilliant plan, because her husband usually got hard as nails at the mere mention of anal.

"Bet yer glad I used the strap on this morning now, aren't you?" She drawled with a smug expression. 

Suddenly Cain's shocked face came into her view. "You fuck him?"

She dead ass winked and nodded right at him. "Damn right I do. I give it good and hard."

Shaking his head with an intense look he admitted, "Just when I think I couldn't love you more….I have a mighty need to see that sometime."

"Whenever you want," she promised while watching his face as he carefully slid his cock inside Ramiel. 

The bliss on both their faces as Ramiel was slowly filled almost had her coming on the spot. She was the lucky one, watching her husband get drilled, while he drilled her. And just like that he was beautifully hard and aching, burying himself inside her. 

Abaddon welcomed every inch of him, loving how he trembled from sensitivity. Adoring the heaven on Cain's face behind him, when Ramiel squeezed his length as he pumped inside her, filling her up. But the best look of all was the next level nirvana from Ramiel.

"You love this, don't you my Prince?" Cain demanded an answer from heavy lidded eyes.

Ramiel was fucking himself into oblivion and barely coherent enough to answer. 

"I can feel how good you're fucking her. Keep going nice and deep like that," Cain growled before putting a bright red handprint on his ass. 

The vibration from it had Abaddon squeezing Ramiel harder. 

"Oh God, G--," was all he could get out when pulling out of her and sliding back to meet Cain's powerful thrusts.

She could see him mesmerized by all the overwhelming sensations and her tits bouncing each time he slammed into her  
and Cain pounded into him. 

"That's it, use us, get yourself off," she demanded, her voice dripping with mind-numbing lust. 

"Come in her hard, Ram. Fill that sweet pussy. I want to see you pouring out of her," Cain commanded. 

And he did. Abaddon heard the change in Ramiel’s voice, she was almost there herself but knew she wasn't going to come before he did. That was okay. She wanted him to have this with them. 

Besides, between the two men, they could easily help her finish. For now, she enjoyed the sweet pulse from her husband's blessed release gushing in her. The stilted thrusts of Cain as he emptied inside Ramiel. 

She pulled Ramiel’s face down into her neck and mouthed a silent, grateful "thank you," to Cain as she kissed the hair above his ear and rubbed his neck, riding out his aftershocks with him. 

When Ramiel had caught his breath and rolled over he confessed, "Now this is a night to remember."

Cain smiled warmly at him, his eyes danced in love and delight. "It ain't over yet. Think our little demon here has one more in her. Roll over on yer tummy sweet thing. Show us that ass. "

Abaddon readily complied, though unsure what to expect. Then Cain, ever the observant one, ran his fingers softly up her swollen opening and showed Ramiel. 

"She hasn't released you yet, man she's holding on tight," he commented while sliding two fingers in, then withdrawing, then coating her pussy and clit with the come from inside and slowly rubbed until he found just the right angle and pace. 

Ramiel snatched a pillow and snuck it under her belly so she was cozy, while Cain's finger magic once again had her shaking. She was teetering on the edge, so very close, whimpering into the blanket when she felt Cain withdraw his fingers and replace them with his hot mouth. Just that simple shift in technique had her exploding. Cain held her flush and expertly coaxed out every last drop. 

Holy fuck, did Cain have the power to make her go absolutely nuclear in bed. "You've got some major oral kink, don't you? Jesus, warn a bitch next time. Good Lord. " 

"Oral kink, cum kink. Guess giving orgasms is my kink," Cain chuckled. 

"I can vouch for that," Ramiel confirmed, and then pulled him into a fiery embrace to kiss him long and hard. 

When the guys had come up for air, they snuggled around her, warming her goose pimpled flesh from the air conditioning which had recently kicked on. 

"Best anniversary ever, my Prince," she giggled, enjoying being Cain's small spoon, and laced her fingers with her husband's who lay right in front of her. 

"Can't think of a better way to spend my Knights," he sinfully grinned.

"I love you," they each managed to confess in sync before falling asleep, cuddled close on their massive bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fell in love with these three HARD. I foresee writing more of them in future!


	4. Best of Both Worlds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On his birthday, Kevin awakens to birthday delights and fun as only Dean can plan them. By late afternoon he's handed over thoroughly exhausted and happy, to his other boyfriend Sam, who looks forward to giving him an elegant evening they'll both love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I art because it's therapy for the nerve issues in my hands. And because I want to and like to, despite being a cringeworthy beginner. This fic banner did NOT go according to plan. There was so much detail that got lost. I tried fishing wire even so I wouldn't lose the cello strings, alas- no dice. But, live and learn!
> 
> Also thanks again to my awesome beta tfw-cas!

  


"Wakey, wakey," Dean cooed from under the bed covers between Kevin's legs.

Kevin rolled over and stretched, then yelped at the love bite Dean gave him on his inner thigh while lazily teasing him awake.

"Finish what you started and I'll make you the Eggs and Bakey part of that equation," Kevin huffed under Dean's delectable technique.

"Jsmdkdnnwssklck..dsksx..nn," was the unintelligible reply.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Dean," Kevin chastised while grasping a tuft of sandy blonde hedgehog hair bobbing up and down.

Tearing the bed covers away, Kevin got an eye full of plump lips that looked great wrapped around his cock. Damn, his boyfriend was beautiful. And generous.

Just as his eyes rolled back in his head in delight, he switched tactics and flipped over.  
He knew there was only one thing Dean loved more than giving head and a smile on his boyfriend's face, and that was going balls deep in his boyfriend, causing said smile.

He playfully slapped Kevin's ass, prompting him to raise it in the air. Thanks to their lovemaking the night before, Dean's deliciously hard dick slid allll the way to the hilt. With a small, circular grind he was truly balls deep, right where Kevin knew he was most content. Where Kevin himself was most content. Until he started thrusting, that is. That's when fireworks started for them both.

Last night may have been slow and sweet, but as Kevin liked to remind him, hormone levels reach their peak between the morning hours of four and seven. Glancing at the clock, Kevin saw it was 6:45 am, on a Saturday. But he was too busy getting fucked into the mattress to have any left over fucks to spare. Both were hurtling towards their respective releases at warp speed.

With every punch against his prostate and grind of Dean's hips Kevin saw stars. The build deep in his stomach was growing and quickly exploded in rippling waves. He clawed at the bed sheets and shouted, seconds before he heard Dean doing the same. Before collapsing on Kevin, he'd swiped a plug off the nightstand and popped it in. "Let's keep that in for later," he quietly chuckled.

Kevin fell in a heap on a pile of pillows, with Dean lovingly cocooning him while both let their heart rates recover.

"Happy Birthday. Have I got a day plannnned for you…" Dean mischievously confessed while kissing his shoulder before peeling himself off.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Kevin's curiosity was piqued.

"That's for me to know and you to find out." Dean grabbed a towel from the linen closet, wound it up and snapped his left cheek with it. It didn't hurt nearly as much as a damp towel, but regardless, Dean dodged any retaliation by disappearing into the shower.

Kevin smiled to himself, adoring how free-spirited and fun his boyfriend always was. They'd been together two years after he'd attended an Engineering conference in the San Francisco Bay area. Dean had spoken about recent developments in the field of Mechanical Engineering, and Kevin had signed right up for as many of his classes as he could at Stanford. He couldn't help but be drawn to his intelligence, kindness, and exceptionally fine ass.

Kevin was thirty and nobody was taking advantage of anyone. It was difficult for him to find someone who matched his level of intellect and he'd found that in Dean, in spades. His generous and playful nature were only two of many traits which had Kevin falling head over heels for him.

Dean was out of the shower before Kevin could drag his ass out of bed and grab a towel. But he sweetly kissed him before firmly stating, "Have a good soak. I'll get the eggs and bakey, birthday boy."

After the shower, Kevin mosied on into the kitchen of Dean and Sam's modest two thousand square foot craftsman bungalow they'd gone in halfsies for in Menlo Park. Given both their fields, they could afford it. Dean made the yummiest breakfasts, and Kevin thought he was the cutest post-sex boyfriend alive with how he glowed, cooking and taking care of him. That was Dean. Unfailingly kind, and happiest when caring for those he loved most. Which happened to be Kevin and Sam.

Pulling into a vast parking lot to the arena aptly named "Need for Speed." Kevin giggled like a twelve year old. It matched the look of juvenile anticipation on Dean's beautiful face.

"Let's kick off the morning with a little 'Gentlemen start your engines,'" Dean laid out with glee.

"Don't mind if I do," came Kevin's unrestrained squeal of a reply.

Both rubbed their hands excitedly as each were handed a helmet and suit to change into after being issued their own Go Kart driver's permits. Once dressed appropriately, they were led to their race karts and hopped in, with their hearts thundering and competitive engines roaring. They'd talked about signing up for year round membership when the adult establishment opened a few weeks ago. The governors on the engines allowed for more speed than any family raceway did, and the idea alone had their competitive natures in overdrive.

When both were buckled in and the sideways lights blinked down to green, the checkered flags were waved and both gunned the gas like the devil himself was chasing them to Hell. They'd had to start with the basic Grand Prix loop simulation and work their way up. Bumping wasn't allowed, to Dean's frustration.

"Whatever, you'll get bumped plenty back home," he maniacally assured when winking at him, blowing a kiss, and flipping his helmet visor back down before lapping Kevin on Race #2. After Race #4 on the Petit Le Mans, Kevin was getting frustrated. When conveying why, Dean piped back with some sage advice.

"Put yer PhD down for a day. I don't wanna hear how the kart's torque ratio can be improved. We're not here in a consulting capacity, Mr. Tran. Shut up and DRIVE."

Dean was absolutely right. He tended to fixate on numbers and physics a little too often. This was supposed to be fun. Race #5 simulated the Autodrome in São Paulo, Brazil. Brazil equalled Carnival. Carnival was fun. In that spirit Kevin let loose and enjoyed the ride. Instead of computing anticipated equations on each turn, he found himself grinning from ear to ear and enjoying the indoor kart arena's crisp air conditioning as he zipped past Dean. He won some races. He lost some races. But he had a friggin' blast, and that was the point after all.

The last race was Sweden's Gotland Ring, and it looked like Hell. Kevin was certain there wasn't a snowball's chance in Hades he'd win. But when that checkered flag waved he floored the kart and did his best to keep the imaginary, floating light blue equations in his mind of Distance = Speed x Time at bay. He lost a few seconds on the first two turns, but caught up and Dean took them entirely too fast, spinning out on the second. But Dean recovered quickly and was hot on his tail.

The Gotland Ring was full of switchbacks and hair pin turns. He was half sick to his stomach imagining what the real track would feel like going ten times faster, but he kept his focus and steady hand. Getting past the last turn had him sweating bullets and the suit was no help at all, but Dean somehow fishtailed it which helped Kevin shave off a few seconds on the turn, and gave him the edge he needed to fly past that finish line.

His hands shot up in the air and the terminal blasted triumphant music as his kart slowed to a stop. "Yes! Yes! That was awesome!"

"Damn right it was!" Dean hooted from a few yards before the finish line, removing his helmet.

God, he looked to die for all sweaty, with his hair sticking out every which way. Sometimes Kevin saw a youthfulness in Dean to rival his own. He'd never stop letting that inner kid out. But Kevin would never want him to.

Checking his watch, Kevin noted it was already 2pm. How had the morning flown by so fast?

Dean checked his cell and asked with the juvenile hope Kevin adored, dancing in his eyes, "You ready for some mini golf?"

"Sure."

Scandia's courses happened to be right next door, so they walked over. Kevin not only beat Dean by six strokes, of which he made a hilarious innuendo about, but won a free round at the last hole. When they got home, Kevin insisted he needed another shower.

"How could you possibly work up a sweat, you were sitting in a go kart all morning?" Kevin heard his other boyfriend ask from the kitchen.

Sam was removing his tie and waistcoat, which he insisted on wearing even during his Saturday morning and afternoon classes at Stanford. He and Kevin had also met through the field of engineering when he was working on his first PhD, in Aerospace Engineering. Sam happened to be offering extra credit to students who went to his brother's talk at the conference.

He was dating Sam first and hadn't meant to fall in love with Dean. But how could he not? He was open with both about his feelings from the get go which helped, and after a few months and some impressive communication, they'd concluded that nobody should have to make a choice. So lucky duck Kevin dated both brothers, and everyone seemed content with their arrangement.

"Winning the tournament of champions against your brother wasn't easy, but someone had to do it."

"Aheh, heh, meh…" Dean fake whined at Kevin.

But Kevin was quick on the draw and threw his arms around him. Giving him a most passionate kiss in the middle of him gathering up a spatula and the prepared burgers on a tray from the fridge, destined for the BBQ.

"Thank you for a great morning and amazing afternoon," Kevin stared deep into his eyes

"Yer welcome." Dean was still so flummoxed by Kevin's sincere gratitude that at times he didn't know what to do with himself, so he grew shy and pink in the face.

Kevin left him at that, and headed for the expansive walk in shower that was renovated to rival the size of the one in Dean's master bedroom. He was completely aware Sam was stalking him like prey, peeling off the rest of his clothes, which were the hallmark of the occupationally enslaved.

As he turned on the shower and stepped under the cool spray, he was waiting for the assault. The anticipation was killing him as he washed away the sweat from the morning and aftern-

"Did the speed turn you on? Could you even concentrate?" Sam's voiced tickled in his ear,  
and Kevin felt the wall of heat from his body, plastering him against the shower’s chilled tile wall.

His breath hitched when answering, "The turns tripped me up. Ss-some equations for speed kept butting in-"

Sam rubbed his massive, wet cock between his cheeks. "Butting in how?"

It was difficult for Kevin to concentrate on supplying Sam with answers when he was ready to strike at any moment. Difficult. But oh how Kevin loved it.

"I couldn't help factoring in the kart’s turn radius."

Sam's form froze against him and he huffed in mild irritation, but humor as well. He feels the plug, Kevin realized, keeping his grin on lock down.

Every once in a while one brother would play territorial games with the other somehow, via Kevin and his body. The last time before the plug, Sam had completely covered Kevin in hickies to where there were more sections of his skin not mottled with purple souvenirs of their time together. He didn't mind in the slightest, it never spilled into any other part of their relationship dynamics and never involved any pain, physical or emotional. They were just brothers pranking each other. Via their boyfriend. Who happened to love playing along.

"Dean, Dean, Dean..tsk,tsk,tsk." Sam’s fingers ran down along the plug, pausing to circle and rub at it.

Kevin heard the snapping of a container nearby and surmised it to be their water-resistant lube. While Sam gently rubbed at the plug, his other hand made its way to Kevin's front and began gripping his cock.

"Turn radius in the actual situation or…"

"It was Sweden's Gotland Ring. But the speeds we were racing at made me wonder how your craft would maneuver through an Arial Gotland Ring Simulation in a CR-AVE experiment."

It was the truth. Even though it was very much an apples to oranges scenario in their respective fields of engineering, Kevin knew both Big Sam and Not-So-Little Sam would be pushed into overdrive at the prospect of his compulsion to calculate such things during such an adrenaline rush moment.

"It's an aura craft, not built for air speed but to measure the rate of ozone depletion in the troposphere," Sam gasped as he pulled out the plug and slid right in, not actually requiring the lube after all.

The cool tile was uncomfortable against Kevin's cock, now hard as concrete. But thankfully Sam wrapped his warm hand around it, shielding it from the tile and giving it loving tugs while otherwise slamming him into the wall with each thrust. All was good and right in the world for Kevin when the power and length of a Winchester was pounding into him.

Sam took both of Kevin's hands, placing his palms flush with the tile above his head with only one of his own. The other happily returned to stroking his aching cock.

"I know, but I still wanna see it in action. Touch its high altitude instruments. Feel the degree of its-ugh fuck me- feel the craft as it tilts through the degrees of its bank angles."

Sam was slamming into him, but in slow, consistent, thrusts. Kevin reached for the knobs controlling the temperature and pressure to steady himself. He felt Sam's right knee jolting upwards, his foot resting on the shower’s bench so as to brace for a better angle from which to snap his hips forward.

His breath was scalding hot on Kevin's skin compared to the tepid water, eliciting a whine from his chest and an even greater, nerve wracking anticipation of when Sam would strike. He didn't fuck like this unless in a particular mood, which pleased Kevin to no end. Turning his head to the right, exposing his neck, the minute slowing of Sam's piston- like motions indicated he was teetering on the edge.

Kevin happily pushed back and up, countering his movements, which had Sam growling and sinking his teeth into his neck, just low enough the right kind of shirt would cover it. His lips moaned against Sam's, while his lover's entire body quaked against his own as both went over the edge

The tile wall was covered in come, and Sam turned Kevin's head a little further to the right to kiss him softly as they both descended from cloud nine.

Where Dean endeavored to make him forget his obsession with numbers and equations to have fun, Sam encouraged them to enhance the fun, taking full advantage of his physics kink.

Sam whirled him around and kissed him sinfully hard, then a smile brushed his lips. "Happy Birthday."

"It's been a great one so far. I'm happy you're here."

"And you'll be happy to be there," Sam mysteriously let hang, and grabbed a towel before scooting out. "Put on something comfy, we'll change after the dinner Dean's cooking.

"Got it."

As far as Kevin and Sam were concerned, Dean was the best cook in the entire world. The dude perfected every recipe he tried, and loved having two willing guinea pigs-slash-taste testers under the same roof.

Kevin made it to the table about the same time Sam did, when a paper airplane with a quick drawing of him winning the Gotland Ring zoomed in and landed on his plate before he sat down. Dean's shining grin met him from the other side of the island in the kitchen.

"Dean," Sam rolled his eyes before shaking out a napkin over his lap.

"What?"

Kevin could tell Dean was feigning innocence over something but what, he couldn't tell.

Kevin showed Sam the picture, who shook his head and asked him about the Need for Speed arena he and Dean had spent the morning playing in.

"He _rocketed_ past me a few times, but I didn't let him get the drop on me every race," Dean added to Kevin's enthusiastic report, before finishing off another of his famous burgers. "What are you crazy kids up to now?"

Kevin had a sneaking suspicion Dean already knew exactly what the plan was, but enjoyed annoying the Hell outta Sam.

Sam explained through gritted teeth, "I have a few things planned. Then we'll come back later tonight and watch a movie."

"Oh yeah, which one? Top Gun?" Dean laughed at himself.

Sam's severely irritated face softened a little when suggesting to Kevin, "Let's get dressed and head out."

Dean's ultimate attempt to crack Sam's fragile calm stampeded through with his stellar pipes and dramatic faux panic as he sang, "I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you..I know you were right, believing for so long.."

"Air Supply, nice!" Kevin laughed as he gathered the plates to the sink.

"Really Dean?!" Sam barked.

"Hey Kev, leave those alone. Imma do'em once you leave. Both of you shut up and quit annoying me. Got dishes to do. Honestly, you two are so immature sometimes..tsk tsk," Dean scolded like the little shit he was.

Kevin was pretty sure he saw a smirk on Dean's face before he rounded the corner to Sam's room. There he found Sam had set out two tuxedos.

"Wow, we're really getting all gussied up," Kevin noted with sincere excitement.

"I'm not telling you what for though," Sam chided as he playfully slapped Kevin’s ass.

Thirty minutes later they were dressed to the nines, and getting ready to leave the house when Dean swooped in and demanded a photo like they were boyfriends going to the prom.

Kevin noted him actually being sincere when trying to calm a flustered Sam. "You look great, c'mon. Gimme a pic."

He got two pics and when looking at them, Kevin had a sudden attack of the feels. "Dean, d'ya wanna come too?"

Immediately Dean began making fake barf sounds. "I'll..agh, huagh..pass thanks."

"Thanks for a really awesome first half of my birthday, I had a lot of fun," Kevin conveyed.

"I'll beat you in Sweden next time," Dean promised with a wink, smile, and a dismissive gesture.

Kevin knew Sam's lips were sealed in regards to where they were going, so he asked him about his classes instead. About an hour after they'd left, Sam told him to close his eyes. So Kevin did.

Five minutes later Sam instructed, "Alright, open sesame."

Kevin's heart nearly launched into space when seeing the sign for Moffet Airfield, and he screeched, "Your high altitude WB-57F craft is actually here?! In Meadow Vista?!"

"I feel bad, but I wasn't actually teaching classes this morning. I had to oversee her check-in. Dean helped stall with mini-golf when there were delays getting her into the hangar."

Kevin's head whipped around when spotting one of Moffet Fields' gigantic hallmark hangars, built specifically for a variety of high altitude crafts. _This is why Dean made the airplane related references!_ For the next two hours Kevin nerded out over the specialized plane Sam and his team had a hand in developing.

"Whoops, we gotta go," Sam confessed while checking his watch, "we can come back tomorrow with Dean, but if we don't leave now, we'll be late for part two of birthday date night," Sam urged.

"This was so cool. I can't wait for Dean to see her!" Kevin exclaimed.

"He won't admit it, but I think he's an even bigger super geek for her than I am. Even calls her Baby 2.0" Sam imparted with astonishment.

"Whoa, seriously?"

"Yeah."

He could tell they were headed south, but to where and why, was the question of the hour. When traffic slowed, he realized they were close to the San Jose Civic Center, and that's when he was asked to close his eyes once more.

Kevin was close to falling asleep when Sam's Charger pulled into a parking space. The crowd of people entering the elevator from the parking garage were dressed in plain old jeans and t-shirts, all the way to tuxedos like they were, so it was hard to gage what kind of performance they were in for. But Sam knew him well, and Kevin really looked forward to whatever the evening brought.

Eventually they found their seats and the lights dimmed. From the darkness, two figures emerged through the floor as if wicked witches of Oz were kind of reverse melting. It was a really cool effect. Both took the seats Kevin hadn't seen were there, and the beautiful singing of stringed instruments pierced the silence.

"You brought me to a 2Cellos concert!?"

"You haven't picked up a bow in so long and you're always listening to their CD's. Dean agreed, you'd love seeing them if they ever came out this way."

Kevin didn't give a fuck who might've objected, he kissed Sam in front of everyone in appreciation for the wonderful gift.

Luka Sulic and Stjepan Hauser were born musicians and performers. They brought the audience to tears with a few best hits by the late Avicci, amped them up to disco, and stoked the fires of their souls with their version of Imagine Dragons’ Bespacito.

Their music went on and on into the night. Kevin couldn't stop smiling. He really did have the best boyfriends in the whole world, and he couldn't wait to tell Dean all about it.

But the day had truly been a long one, and traffic getting out of the Civic Center had been a royal pain in the ass. By the time they made it home it was almost two in the morning. When pulling into the driveway, Kevin apologized for having fallen asleep. Sam hugged him and helped him to his room.

When they settled into bed with sleepy, lazy kisses, Kevin finally remembered to ask about the movie Sam had told Dean about over dinner.

"Don't worry about it birthday boy. You know what goes great with the movie The Last Starfighter?"

"Hm, what?" Kevin sleepily asked in Sam's arms.

"Leftover burgers and beans with the best chef in the universe."

Kevin smiled and drifted off, having had a phenomenal day filled with love, which came from the best of both worlds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CR-AVE: Costa Rica Aura Validation Experiment


	5. Not Yer Mama's Wysteria Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What started out as a fun fling between Jo and the wild neighbors next door, becomes something much more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta, tfw-cas as always! @rennywilson asked me for Jess/Jo/Lisa/Ruby using a strap on with Jo and giving her cream pie. I realized it would fill the Cluster Marriage bingo square perfectly, so here we are. Hope you enjoy!

  


Jo Harvelle was seventeen when the crazy, beautiful neighbors moved in next door. She hadn't come out, yet Ellen wouldn't mind because she'd married Donna when Jo was three years old. But holy shit had she hit the jackpot with how goddamn beautiful Jess, Lisa, and Ruby were. Even Ruby's Aunt Amara, with whom her 'friends' moved in to house watch for during her frequent work-related traveling, was really pretty. She remembered her eighteenth birthday like it was yesterday…

They'd invited her over for cake early one afternoon, Jo was drinking a coke in the kitchen and on cloud nine to be spending part of her special day with these stunners who'd counted her a good friend. She felt the same way, and more. So much, much more. 

Lisa was reaching on her tippy toes for a cup from the cabinet and Jo couldn't not stare at her ass. She was shaking her head and internally admonishing herself for objectifying her friend like that, when two arms wrapped around her waist from behind and pulled her back flush with Jess. 

"Like what you see?" Jess hadn't missed where she'd been ogling.

"I'm sorry, sorry I just, I was-" Jo stammered.

Ruby had a wicked smile on her face and pulled Lisa back from the counter towards Jo. She took Jo's hands and placed them on Lisa's ass. Lisa herself was cracking a pretty enthusiastic grin, albeit a touch maniacal. 

Jo suddenly felt soft lips lightly brushing her neck. She closed her eyes, certain when she opened them it would all be just a dream. Yet when opening them, she found Lisa alarmingly close. Her eyes sought permission. When she found it Jo's heart and mind took flight.

Lisa’s lips were everything she'd dreamt of and more. Her plump, bubble gum chapstick lips glided against her own. This couldn't really be happening, could it? Either it was or wasn't, but Hell, she was gonna make the most of it. Jo squeezed and kneaded Lisa's pert ass, loving how her cheeks felt in her hands. But Jess flipped her around, her hands losing the cheeks she wanted to bite into, as Jess kissed her deeply. It was then Ruby who took her hand, leading her to the bedroom where everyone followed. 

That'd been four years ago. This morning, Jo was graduating from Kansas University with a bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice. It wasn't even nine am and already she was exhausted. She wouldn't have been if her girlfriends would leave her alone, but it was the "Cinnamon Roll's" big day, and both Jess and Lisa were Hell bent on rendering her barely able to stand in her cap and gown. 

She'd already come twice that morning, due to a lengthy love sesh she'd awakened to. Jo had returned the favor once to each of them. In their post-coital daze, among the ocean of sheets on their California King bed, Lisa flopped over on her tummy to retrieve something from her night stand. Jess lazily kissed Jo, bringing her down from hormonal bliss. They were all sweaty with smiles when Jo felt Lisa's fingers, gently coaxing their way inside her swollen and sensitive folds. 

"Don't think I have another round in me," she huffed out, still recovering.

She watched Jess and Lisa exchange knowing, devious looks. "That's just it," Jess kissed and sucked at one of her nipples, "we think you do."

What were these girls up to? "Oh really? What makes you so sure?"

Jess waggled her eyebrows and giggled, moving so Lisa could roll on top of her. She heard the buzzing sound of one of their vibrators along with its pulses. When Lisa kneed her legs open wearing a diabolical expression of mischief, she covered Jo with her body, and suddenly thrust her hips forward.

Jolt! A shockwave of pleasure undulated through her when feeling the vibrator nudge against her still wet pussy. 

"What the hell was that?"

Jess shut her up using her tongue, while Lisa continued slowly grinding against her until the buzz below had her so wet the vibrator slid right in, causing her to gasp. 

"Happy early graduation," Jess whispered in her ear.

"You got the strap on! Is this the one from that website I showed you?" Jo asked in jubilation, enthusiastically counter-thrusting against Lisa to get her deeper.

Lisa nodded, briefly feigning innocence. "And it came with a surprise inside."

Honestly, this was already a delicious surprise. Between needing to focus on pushing past her fresh, post orgasmic sensitivity and wanting to play with Lisa's mesmerizing tits bouncing inches above her face, she couldn't be bothered to log in any other cherries on top of the exciting toy they'd bought her. Lisa gave her a particularly firm thrust and Jo winced a little. 

"Babe, roll over so she can ride you. Let her use it to get off at her own pace," Jess urged Lisa. 

Maybe that was best, considering she was already pretty close to being sexed out. Both of them had made her come with their talented tongues, so at least she wasn't over stimulated or sore from excessive finger friction.

Lisa held her tight and rolled her on top. Jo noted the lack of a harness she eexpected her to be wearing, then remembered the O ring brief option, and realized what an expensive gift her girlfriends had purchased. 

She missed Ruby, who was away at M.I.T. getting her Masters in Marine Engineering. She's be home in a month and Jo couldn't wait to fuck her with this fancy new wonder dong contraption. Until then, Ruby would have to make do with watching them take turns with each other during their riské Zoom meetings.

As she sank onto the vibrator, nerve endings in her vaginal walls were firing off from the intrusion filling her. It wasn't painful, but the minor discomfort might lead to an amplified orgasm, if the pressure was correctly angled and applied. Let's find out.

She tilted forward, sliding up the length, and then brought herself back down onto it slowly. "Oh y-yyyyeah," she barely got out, "that's definitely hitting the..spot." 

Lisa grinned and squeezed her cheeks, helping to rock her back and forth, deepening the penetration. Jess bit her bottom lip when watching Jo get herself off. 

She confessed as her hand went south, "Hell, I might have another one in me just watching this."

Lisa reached out and lovingly tapped her hip. "Hop on up, Cowgirl. I wanna make you both come."

With the corner of her mouth raised in a half smile Jess drawled, "I'm your Huckleberry."

Before Jo knew what was what, Jess was sitting on Lisa's face with a delirious expression on her own. "C'mere," she beckoned to Jo, who'd evened her thrusting pace at a perfect angle, building towards that last release. 

She kissed Jess in passionate gratitude and toyed with her hardening nipples, while Lisa began counter-thrusting and sighing as she speared into Jess with her tongue. Now that both of them had something nice inside them, their abdominal muscles were coiling and twisting to their rhythm and movements.

"Is she deep enough inside you?" Jess asked her.

"She's getting plenty deep." Jo could already feel the twitching in her left thigh, signaling a potentially blinding, powerful orgasm working its way through her. The kind that leaves you shaking uncontrollably and shrieking like a friggin' banshee getting fucked six ways from Sunday.

Lisa picked up the pace, snapping both her pelvis and vibrator upwards into her dripping pussy. She slowed for a half second when sliding into home, giving Jo a sweet, circular grind. It made the mounting pressure inside all the better. 

Jess closed her eyes for a few seconds after breaking a kiss, to absorb something especially delicious Lisa was doing. Jo heard her moaning and felt her pick up the pace.

They were all glistening with sweat from their morning fuckery, but Jo loved how beautiful they were in the morning light breaking through the curtains. She'd never heard of so many women living like they did, under one roof, together. It was heaven, getting to fuck any girlfriend she wanted, without the sense they were cheating, because they all loved each other in the same way.

She adored gazing at Jess's beautifully bronzed skin, the swell of her heavy breasts, and listening to her breath hitch, as the tone of her voice revealed the full depth of need when sinful words fell from her lips.

"Right there, fuck don't stop, oh God, I'm gonna come. Don't..stop..Baby. I wanna come all over your face. I want you to come all over Jo's face. Please, please!"

Jo's mind was laser focused on Lisa's lustful sounds of delight from the pleasure she was raining on them. Her hands rubbing both her clit and Jess's. The vibrating cock thrusting into her. Her body was already trembling violently when she felt the explosion rocketing inside her. She came screaming, holding Jess's hand to steady them both through their orgasms. 

Lisa was bucking both of them off like there was a fire somewhere, but Jo quickly realized why when pushed onto her back. Dark hair came into her field of vision as Lisa stood over her on the bed, pressing something in one hand and gripping the strap-on in the other. Fake jizz erupted from the slit at the end of the vibrator. It was the silicone lube- like solution she'd read about some of the more expensive ones coming with. Lisa stroked the strap on like it was a real dick, while gently coating her lips and cheek with it. 

"Our cinnamon roll looks so pretty with icing on her face, doesn't she Jess?"

Jess could get a little grumpy sometimes if pestered too soon after coming. "Call a spade a spade. It's a fucking cream pie, Lynette fudgin' Scavo."

Both Jo and Lisa were breathless, but dog-piled on Jess for a few more minutes before having to shower and prepare for her graduation. Jess went for her side of the bed and night stand, but before she could give indication of what she was rummaging around for, Jo piped up.

"Please, no more. I can't!"

"Relax. We just wanna talk," she rolled her eyes, then passed an item to Lisa, who was blunt and forthcoming as ever. 

"Present number two, and the most important...will you marry us?" 

Jo was stunned. And overwhelmed. Marry them? Live next door to her two, non intrusive, wonderful moms, with a fantastic future ahead of her? Sign her the fuck up yesterday.

"Yes! I love you!" she squealed, looking at the size of the rock Lisa was extending to her. What was this, Desperate Housewives? The thing was huge. They could always downsize for her petite fingers later. Her wives-to-be pounced on her with their own squeals and hugs. 

When heading for the shower, Jo lightly harped on them. "I can't walk right and have to get my diploma on the stage in front of everyone! Thanks!"

Lisa gave her finger guns, winked and said, "Hey, you're welcome."


	6. The Cinder Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old tale. Gabe spin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a fairy tale. I got it in my head and it wouldn't leave. This chapters semi crack, hope you'll find it entertaining! Thanks to my betas tfw-cas and @corvu-ss for helping me out!

  


_"Once upon time in a hamlet of Hell far, far away, a son was turned by a proud father. He adored his boy and whenever envisioning their future, his eyes shone like swirling bubbles of pus. But one day, the father was slain and a cruel matriarch saw to the boy’s upbringing. She had many evil children, but none she coddled, save for two, Trab and Lieru. To say they were unkind to the boy would be putting it mildly…"_

Sam sighed during his morning work. He wanted to rush, but one needed precision with this..chore. The screams of the day were already wearing on him, but he was nearing the messiest part of the torment, so the light at the end of the tunnel was glowing, at least.

When there was no more soul to shred, he lay down his tools and moved on to feed the hellhounds. At least they appreciated him.Tagoun was the youngest, and the stump of his tail always wagged the hardest when he approached. The pup’s yellow eyes shone a bit brighter too when rolling over, inviting Sam to give him belly loves.

"Hey buddy, drag down many souls today?" he queried, with affection laced in his voice.

The dingus of a dog sneezed and continued panting under Sam's care. The din of howls, snarls, and growls when he tossed this morning’s soul scraps to the hounds was a pleasant concert to his ears.

"Kerj! Sac! Chow time, let's go!" They took their sweet time making their way down the hall towards the dungeon, and cuddled sleepily while waiting patiently for their food.

"Mornin' guys," Sam greeted. He gave Kerj a few scratches behind the ear, which caused the dog’s foot to twitch so hard he farted and fell over. Sam laughed and left them to their meal.

Hours after cleaning the unused torture chambers, he was readying them for use when a demon knocked on the door. Sam took the scroll he was offering and thanked him, but cringed. It would have to go straight to Eve, his evil Step Witch as she'd ordered, but she was busy giving Trab and Lieru flying lessons. Interactions with them were best kept to a minimum, and everyday he did his best to avoid them altogether. Yet when left unsupervised, they had a penchant for making his life a living, well, Hell.

Sam found them in the fields of fire and inwardly grinned with glee. The idiots of the underworld were screaming and tending to their singed and soon-to-be no longer pointed tails.

"If you'd use your hydrogen sacs to keep you elevated like I've instructed, neither of you morons would have such hideous tail scarring!" Eve shrieked in exasperation while her eyes flared in Sam's presence, "Haven't I told you never to interrupt me during flight training?"

Oh, how he hated Eve. Like a spell had been cast upon him, he extended the item in offer. "A scroll was delivered."

"So?!?!?"

Keeping his eyes cast downward Sam explained, "It bears the royal seal."

Suddenly, tweedle dumb and tweedle dumber shut their fussing snouts, listening for how the royal scroll’s contents could possibly benefit them.

Eve snarled, "I'm healing these morons, my hands are busy! Break it for me."

He snapped the seal open and a great wind swept through the fields, stoking its fires as if destiny were on the horizon. Eve finished and snatched the scroll from his hands.

"The High Angel of Hell and his Queen are seeking to add to their royal family. They're hosting a hunt. The winner will join them at the grand feast in the Castle Erotica to discuss terms for marriage and..holy fucking shit..Kingship?!"

Trab squealed in delight. "The High Angel! He's smokin' hot!"

Lieru sneered crassly, "The Queen's a red head. Angel on the streets and demon in the sheets!"

Eve finished reading the scroll, "By royal decree, all residents of Hell must attend."

Sam’s insides were swirling around, making him giddy. Marry the Queen and High Angel? What an awesome ticket out of this shit show!

"I'll need to get my horns polished!" Trab exclaimed.

Lieru added, "And a new set of wings!"

"You wouldn't have burnt them to ash if you'd just. Fucking. Listened!" Eve lashed out in verbal admonishment.

Sam cautiously braved a question. "The decree says residents. I'm not a prisoner, so I'm going too, right?"

While dumbshit one and two broke out their piss poor objections, Eve fell quiet and calculating. She picked up a whip from the ground and cracked both of her walking, talking shit stain spawn with it.

"The resident registry was obviously consulted and the decree states all residents must attend, which means this household will be checked off as attending upon arrival. They only hold a census for prisoners. As Azazel's sole heir, your name will be the only one listed, save mine. Very well, but you must be presentable and finish your work, otherwise I can easily report you as unable to attend due to injury."

"Fine," he gritted through his teeth. What he wouldn't give to encase her billowing form in glass with spector lice.

Later that night, he ghosted to the dungeons where he'd been sleeping since the death of his father. He was exhausted; even the dust on his smokey form had dirt and debris. He opened one of the many books which had belonged to his father, and which Lieru had chucked in the garbage. Tougan, Kerj, and Sac greeted him with toasty infernos in their eyes and light growls.

"The High Angel is holding a hunt tomorrow night," he wearily relayed, giving them a few pieces of shredded pedophile he'd stolen from the kitchen scraps. "Apparently he and the Queen want a husband."

Kerj's ears perked up at the news, and he began to pant in mild excitement. Sam adored his eyes which were a particularly lovely shade of gangrene. The hyena-like hound nosed at him as if asking, "you goin'?"

"Eve thinks they might look for my name on the guest list, and if I'm not there it could raise suspicion. Officially I'm a resident, but they sure as shit treat me like a slave."

Sac rumbled, then gazed at him with those tragic orbs of blue, reminding him of the harshest bruising of skin under a pretty layering of hypothermic death. They matched his collar and leash. He placed a gentle paw on Sam's left, resting on its pile of soot.

"So get this, whoever wins the hunt will marry them and become King. But I've nothing to wear. Trab and Lieru have strong horns,Trab still has half a pointy tail, Lieru has to buy a tailpiece, cause he's a jackwagon who burnt it off."

Kerj was up and pacing in a flash, Tougan stood, unsure as to why he was doing so, but Sam appreciated his clueless demonstration of enthusiastic support nonetheless. Sac calmly waited to see what Kerj would do. Sam watched Kerj pace back and forth, making soft yipping sounds as if talking to himself.

Chuckling, Sam wondered, "What is it, Kerj? You conjuring a plan in that melon of yours? Hate to break it to you, but even if I had coins, there probably won't be time to even purchase a used set of wings. The to-do list Eve's conveniently made won't allow it."

When Kerj snarled in reaction, like he was sayin' shaddap and lemme think, will ya? Sac rumbled at him, then followed up his sentiment with a few patterned yips. He was up in a flash, tearing down the dungeon hall with Tougan nipping at his heels. Kerj nuzzled his shoulder, issued a confident bark, then tore after his petite pack. Sam tried keeping his hopes well contained, and considered how he might work smarter rather than harder.

***

When the blood moon began to rise in Hell's sky the next evening, it was with a heavy heart that Sam floated towards the dungeon to tell the lovable riff raff the disparaging news. Yet before he turned down his corridor, Tougan greeted him with such excitement that he peed all over the floor.

Sam managed a tiny laugh. "I'm flattered, it's nice to see you too."

Tougan barked and jumped back, his tone alerting him something was up. When reaching his dungeon corner he found Kerj and Sac sitting up ramrod straight in proud, sentinel poses. Between them was a pole, on which a lovely set of ivory wings with their harness rested. The feathers weren't fresh from molt, but still held a modicum of shimmer, indicating they'd been recently treated with oils.

Sam recognized these wings. Not two months earlier they'd been taken from a fallen. Eve had purchased them for Lieru, from the most lucrative merchant specializing in exotic anatomy trade. The little shit had thrown such a bitch fit that they weren't the trendy midnight ebony "everyone was wearing," he wore them once, then tossed them aside like garbage when his toad of a mother wasn't looking.

Sam didn't mind in the slightest: their worth would free a hundred slaves. He couldn't imagine the number of hours spent toiling over them after being rescued from the incinerator pile, soaking in all kinds of filth. Or who had done said toiling. It was probably best not to think too hard on that. Yet seeing as they were so unfit and undesirable to his Step Shit, he'd be presentable, and would therefore attend the hunt.

"Guys, this is…" his voice cracked with emotion,"this means a lot. Thank you."

The riff raff gathered around him, nuzzling through his mist and smoke form in affection.

"I've gotta hurry and clean up!"

When putting the harness on, he noticed the craftsmanship in the sigils seared into the leather. He knew they were spells, and briefly wondered if it would hurt after clicking the last strap into place. He'd find out soon enough.

He looked down at the riff raff who adoringly stared back at him with goofy, doggo love. When the last strap was secured he stilled, anticipating that literally any sensation could assault him, but which? He saw the harness flare with purple magic. And that was it. Nothing. That was it?

He looked across his misty form to find the harness had melded and disappeared, leaving nothing behind but the stunning pair of wings. Huh. Cool.

***

Eve and her barf boys were just heading out when he yelled for them to wait. Her eyes flashed brightly in rage when taking him in. She yanked Lieru's horns harshly, pointing him in Sam's direction.

"What the fuck? Those are mine, you greedy, filthy bastard."

"You threw them out, they were found soaked with who knows what in the garbage. So what does it matter if I'm wearing them?"

"It just does." Lieru launched himself at Sam, with Trab right behind.

All he could do was shield himself from the onslaught. Hands were grabbing at him, swinging and yanking him every which way. He tried shoving them away, but both of them were too strong.

One of them finally hooked onto the harness tight enough and in one solid pull, he felt part of the leather strapping tear. Now he understood the sigil’s spellwork. It hadn't hurt going on, but coming off without unbuckling properly was the equivalent to having these wings existing as if they were his own. As if his wings’ bones were splintering from the very force pulling them off.

Trab was standing on his back and pinning his right arm under his foot, while Lieru ripped and tore to his little black heart's content. Screaming in pain, Sam was unable to reach behind, to prevent this from happening.

He could hear the din of murderous frenzy from his riff raff howling behind the gates, riddled with sigils barring access to the house. His father had raised them in their loving home, but Eve thought them repulsive and banned them from the main quarters. Their screams and yelps of pain when unable to reach him and help were equal to his own.

When it was over, he could barely make out the maniacal grins and jubilant mood with which Eve and her spawn departed. His pain was excruciating as he felt the hounds dragging him back to the dungeon. They bayed for him as if bereaved, and cried, their healing tears sizzling in his wounds like hydrogen peroxide. Just before the inky black stillness overtook him, they lay beside him, whimpering in lamentation.

***

He awakened to the blood moon and flames. Where has the pain gone? He asked himself. Sac gently woofed nearby to his left, alerting him to his presence. Sam assessed his surroundings, determining they were somewhere between his lands and the castle. Whatever the place's name, a river of fire flowed through it.

"Hello Sam," a gravelly voice calmly greeted from the direction of a crisped willow tree, devoid of all flourishing flora.

There, under the silvery reddish tint of the blood moon and partially cloaked by the plethora of dry, claw-like branches, was a man. The expression he wore was neutral, his formal attire consistent with noble Scottish heritage. In his hand was a highball glass filled with what Sam presumed was alcohol.

"Care for a nip of Craig? It's a fine evening for it."

"Who are you?" Sam questioned with suspicion.

"You're right to ask. I'm here to help," he took a sip and set the glass down on a nearby willow stump, "and given where here is, I'll wager you need it."

Sam insisted, "That still doesn't doesn't answer my question. Who are you?"

"Someone with power, a beneficiary, as it were. I'm your Fairy Not-Father. The Bibbity Bobbity Boo Bitch."

"I'm sorry, wut now?" Sam couldn't quite believe his ears.

"Boo for short, but if you want a kiss that'll cost you extra," the man clarified with no small measure of sass.

A smile spread across Sam's face. "How are you going to help me?"

"Rumor has it you're a bonafide resident, in need of transport to Castle Erotica. I'm just the sonuvawitch to get you there."

"Seriously?"

"No, I'm here to drown you," Boo Bitch deadpanned.

Sam awkwardly cleared his throat.

Now he was back to square one. He wasn't in excruciating pain, but he had nothing to wear.

Once more Boo snapped his fingers, but when he did, everything changed. Sam was..contained, within something warm. His outside was soft, tan. The fur on his head was long and fell in his eyes, tickling his neck and shoulders. Tougan was so startled by his sudden change in appearance that he scrambled too quickly from the branch he'd been resting on, and fell on his head. Kerj and Sac had been busy staring at each other like they were in a trance, but when seeing Sam in his new suit their eyes grew wide with shock.

When touching his face he gasped, "Full formals?"

"I wouldn't necessarily call it formal."

Picking at the different kinds of fur covering him, he asked, "What's this?"

Boo replied with disapproval. "Flannel, unfortunately. 'Lumberjack chic,' in the fashion circles."

"No wings? But Lieru insisted black wings-"

"Are all the rage? Watching him realize his egregious faux pas has been the most satisfying part of tonight, thus far. He appeared quite the feathered jackass, I assure you. Celestial gauche is so last season. He was nursing a big boy drink in a corner somewhere, pouting and pissed at all Hell before your demonic lo-jack popped up on my radar. Now, shall we be going?"

Sam couldn't contain his glee, and giggled when learning of his step bitchlings’ well earned comeuppance. "Wait, going in what?"

The man snapped his fingers and a beast born of onyx steel and hellfire assembled itself into existence. Its voluminous growl shook the very ground on which they stood. Four weight-bearing ellipses spun swiftly enough to cut through the icy terrain. The unnatural manner and speed in which it moved was smooth and majestic.

Before climbing in the mysterious carriage with the Boo Bitch, Sam turned to his beloved riff raff and knelt. They cautiously approached, sniffing at him.

"I know this suit smells different. But I promise, it's me," he assured.

Tougan, still knock-kneed, cross-eyed, and drooling from his fall, galloped towards in a not-so-straight line, and stampeded into the tree right next to him. Sam dragged him up, looking at the comical dingus, and noticed one eye fully dilated and the other normal. Oh well, just another quirky thing to love about him. Kerj and Sac horned in for their turn. He embraced them both before speeding off into the darkness.

They moved alarmingly fast, and they were pulling up to the line of carriages in no time.The car door was opened and Sam was led through a crowd. He panicked slightly when looking for Boo, and found him quickly catching up. As they walked, many demons were staring at him. Some looked quite taken, while others became positively parched at his presence.

Sam was curious. "Why are they reacting to me so strangely?"

"You've got what they call sex appeal. Not to mention, those red peepers draw them like moths to a flame. Only a few have them, you know. Most are black."

They were directed to an assembly on a hill overlooking an onyx field.

"This is where I leave you, lover boy. You have until the sun breaks over the horizon, then the spell breaks and the suit expels you."

"Thank you," Sam issued with genuine appreciation and a hug.

"Happy hunting, Moose. Do everything I wouldn't do. Kisses." And on that note, a smiling Boo flashing red eyes and a smile, disappeared.

When his name was called, he stepped forward to receive a pouch handed to all the hunters.

"Samuel Winchester, son of Azazel. Step forward to receive your supplies."

He had no idea what to expect, so he took the pouch as directed and stepped aside. When the next name was called, he noticed a platform behind the line. Sitting on the platform in two regal chairs were the rulers of Hell. Sam couldn't believe how beautiful they were.

The Queen's red tresses were spilling from her head to her waist. Her skin was the fairest cream he'd ever laid eyes on. The High Angel's face was astonishingly handsome and unexpectedly kind. His eyes were the color of amber from the sea. Something was stirring within Sam, a sensation he'd never known. He felt so drawn to them, it was painful not to rush the platform and beg to speak with them. But it was not to be, just yet.

"Participants of the hunt! The High Angel and his Queen welcome you tonight and wish you luck. Do not be fooled by the size of your tool pouch, in it you'll find all that you need. The contest ends at midnight, if the kill is not presented before then. At that point the winner will have the pleasure of dining with our prestigious rulers and hosts."

As the speaker went over the rules, Sam realized he'd never bothered to ask specifically what they were hunting. He was somewhat skilled, having to fend for himself at times, or when Eve decided she wanted something exotic living on royal land, but didn’t want to get caught poaching. When assessing the competition, he knew he had a fight on his hands. But he'd slaughter the moon if it meant meeting the Queen and her angel.

A blaring horn brought him back to the moment and everyone was off. He spotted Trab up ahead for a moment and panicked, then remembered he wouldn't be recognized in a full suit. Pitching headlong into the ground, he'd felt a swift nick at his ankles. Someone had sliced at a tendon, but thankfully missed.

When watching the goings on around him Sam saw other demons, some partially suited with horns, tails, even a few with last season’s fashion, others with full suits. All of them were more preoccupied with hindering the competition rather than pursuing the creature for which they'd been summoned to catch and present. This would work to his advantage, even though survival instinct dictated he watch his back.

Roaming the dark landscape, he maneuvered by moonlight and veered away from the main crowd into a group of trees. He watched everyone, creeping along the tree line. Now and then, a few demons would charge him, a few got a punch or slice in. But all fell, no match for the strength and skills he learned doing what his own survival dictated was necessary all these years under Eve's loving care.

He was reaching another break in the trees when a noise above him alerted him to another's presence. When he looked up, he spotted an aged man baring his teeth at him. Was this another hunter demon, or their prey? Instinct told Sam to wait, to assess the man's attack. He wasn't brandishing a weapon. He carried no pouch. When snarling at Sam, his teeth resembled a were's, but not exactly.

Sam needed to run; he'd need a head start for figuring out exactly what he was dealing with. He darted into the open, heading north and away from the castle. Every now and then he looked back at the man chasing him, for details in his appearance that might clue him in on where he was from. Sam already knew he was of Asian descent but spotted a medallion around his neck. He needed to get a better look, but another hunter was swiftly closing the distance from behind.

That was perfect. Let this other guy distract him, while he learned what he could. Better to lose a little time finding the right tool in which to kill this monster. When the hunter was right behind them, he recognized that devious grin. Lieru. Sam's pause distracted the monster and Lieru, thinking he had the upper hand, took a swipe and got stabby. Pieces of the monster were flung in every direction.

Lieru looked at him like he was nuts, when he darted, lunged, and jumped back in effort to glance at the medallion. It was Japanese! He was an okami! Opening the pouch, Sam found a spell had cleverly hidden a wardrobe inside the impossibly small space. The okami was getting sliced and diced, but not from a blade blessed by a shinto priest. Lieru had no idea what he was doing, and Sam seized the moment to find exactly what he needed.

Miraculously, no one else was around and so he flew into the wardrobe and found a sizable armory brimming with weapons. He ran down a few aisles before finding the blade, then ran back to the exit, swiping another item hanging by the door. He made it out of there in time to see Lieru throwing his knife to the ground. He was soaked in blood, standing over the okami, grinning.

"Checkmate. Better luck next time friend. But uh, maybe you'd be interested in visiting me in the castle sometime, when the Queen and her Angel are away on royal business?" Lieru proposed.

Sam wanted to puke. "Ew. NO."

"Your loss, asswipe." He turned south, facing the castle, yelling as loud as he could, "I did it! I slayed the monster! I won! Take me to the Queen and her-"

But he never finished his sentence. As Sam predicted, the okami shot up in a bloody mess, wielding the discarded knife which he plunged so hard into Lieru's back it punched through his ribcage, his heart still beating.

People had heard the commotion and were approaching. Before the okami could see his other attacker, Sam used the gargantuan height of his suit to slit its throat from behind, severing nearly all his neck. He then stabbed him six times, plus more for good measure, in case slicing his neck didn't count. The okami was dead before his carcass hit the ground.

A guard was approaching and cheered, "I saw it, you killed the okami. The other hunter didn't. You're the winner! Blow your horn to officially conclude the hunt and claim your status."

The tiny horn was already on his lips. When he'd seen the horn by the door in the armory, the sign above it read, "BLOW ME when you win."

It's sound was shrill and annoying as fuck. "What kind of horn is this?" Sam demanded.

"Jeffrey said he found it on some dead gym teacher. It's called a whiffle, no a whithle... _whistle!_ "

He was taken to the High Angel and the Queen. When bowing, he apologized for his bloodied appearance. "Please excuse the mess, do you have a towel I could use?"

The High Angel spoke with care and a hint of unexpected shyness. "No apology necessary. A Winchester out of breath and covered in blood not of his own looks pretty damn good, if you don't mind my saying so."

"I cannot agree more, my love. Samuel, you've no need of a towel. Will you join us for dinner? We look forward to becoming far more acquainted with you."

She waved her hand and Sam noticed the mess was gone. "I'd really like that," he replied, feeling quite shy himself in their glorious presence.

They ate until their bellies were full. The High Angel was hilarious with his many innuendos. His love for the Queen shone like a beacon, as did hers. All night people came to their table offering congratulations to them and to Sam. Not once did they send anyone away, but engaged all with kindness.

Late in the evening the Queen prompted, "You seem shocked by something Samuel, do tell."

His hesitation provoked the King's assurance. "Honesty is a valuable trait to us. You need never fear speaking the truth here."

"You rule Hell. How are you so nice?"

The High Angel replied, "Kindness costs nothing. We seek balance. In everything. The punishment here was earned. It has its place. But it doesn't belong everywhere."

"That makes sense."

"The same goes for marriage, with us. I love my wife to the ends of the realm and across the universe. Nothing will change that. But I long for the love of a husband as well. We're so happy to have found you, Sam."

Sam's heart swelled inside his suit. He thought it might burst. "Me t-"

The pale colors of early sunrise over the mountains through the expansive castle windows caught his attention. They blinded him and he heard the High Angel smiling when exclaiming, "Sam, you're shining!"

He could feel the fissures in his suit's heart widening. Oh shit. "I'm...I'm sorry. I have to..to.."

He tore off through the castle as fast as he could. No way would they want him, when they saw him looking like fog fart, no matter how red his eyes glowed.

"Sam! Come back! We just found you!" The Queen begged.

Her shrill voice tugged at his heart strings, but he began his descent down the seemingly miles of stairs to the courtyard below.

"Samshine, wait! What've we done? Tell us!"

He was almost to the bottom of the stairs when his shoe fell off. It was an alarming sensation as the ground was so cold. But there was nothing for it but to keep running.

The farther he ran, the harder his eyes leaked. He didn't know why they were doing that, but he'd have to read about it. For now, he needed to get off the road. Even when he could no longer hear the castle’s tolling of Hell's Bells, he still kept running. Though the pain in his chest threatened to burst it wide open, he didn't stop. When finally crossing onto his father's fields, he could feel a violent pulling from deep inside and tried whistling for his riff raff. As his smokey form was yanked from the beautiful suit from his Fairy Not-Father, he heard the howls of his precious hellhounds.

His heart was so heavy, he couldn’t muster the strength to carry the suit to his dungeon, but heard the snarling of Kerj, asserting his right to drag the suit back with him.

"I did it. I won the hunt, met the High Angel and his Queen. We were such a good fit and then...and then.." he was so distraught he couldn't breathe.

Sac crept in front of him, placing a giant paw where his leg would've been, were he still wearing his suit. His eyes were filled with sorrow, but also endless adoration and loyalty.

Screams from Eve within the manor broke through the heavy melancholic silence.

"What do you mean he's dead?! He did what? Your brother was a moron! Who?"

With his curiosity insanely piqued, Sam walked through the gates, disregarding Eve's rule that the gates remain locked at all times.  
The aggressive discussions grew louder as he ghosted through the hall to the main room.

"Samuel Winchester; the registry states he is Lord of this manor. We insist on speaking with him," he heard the Queen's authoritative voice.

"He died." "Ran away." Eve and Trab simultaneously answered.

"Which is it?" the Queen demanded.

"He died," Eve swore.

"She's full of shit. I'm right here," Sam revealed. It pained him to show his form, so filthy it tainted the very air in the house.

"Samshine?!" the High King questioned with a confounding hope.

Taking a deep breath, Sam braced himself for their revulsion and opened his eyes. He floated down the stairs and the High Angel's face lit up like the fires from the bowels of the realm.

"It's really you!"

"Yeah, in the dusty not-flesh. Not exactly royal husband material. So sorry I'm not who you thought. Just some fraud in a meatsuit."

"That's some crazy hot meatsuit, but hey...rulers of Hell here," the High Angel gestured between himself and his wife, "what makes you think we couldn't see your true demonic self all along?"

"And your shining squishy inside?" the Queen added.

"You knew I looked like this all night?"

They nodded.

"You're a demon after our own hearts, Sammy."

"No! That's not Sam, this is!" Eve pointed to Trab, who looked terrified and utterly lost to whatever she was up to. "I switched their identittes to protect Sam from lecherous demons out to steal his father's estate.

The High Angel threw the shoe unbeknownst to everyone he'd kept in his cloak, at Trab. "Put it on now. If the shoe fits…"

Sam piped up, "We don't need the shoe. I have the whole meatsuit. Kerj come!"

Kerj, along with Sac and Tougan came into the room freely, dragging Sam's meatsuit with them.

"Who let them in here! I specifically said-"

But the High Angel cut her off. "Nobody gives a flying fuck what you said, lady. And nobody ever will again. Sam, I'm guessing she's been no cakewalk for you. I'll leave her punishment in your hands."

Smiling, Sam gladly sentenced Eve and Trab. "They'll have the same kindness shown them, as they gave to me. Their wings ripped off, followed by an eternity of servitude."

The Queen looked satisfied. "Guards, carry out the sentence given by our King-to-be."

The look of horror in Eve’s and Trab’s eyes healed Sam in ways he never expected. His billowing form swirled, casting dust and debris all over the house. It was refreshing at first, then painful, and downright excruciating. Something was pulling at the smoke, scrubbing at it like sandpaper would. He couldn't hear anything over the sounds of his own screams.

Finally the dirty dust devil cloud disappeared and revealed an entirely new form. One that mirrored the meatsuit on the floor, surrounded by his beloved riff raff.

"There's our Samshine!"

"What am I?" he yelled.

"You're a soul," Eve spewed as if it were venom in her mouth, "Azazel turned you as a baby and took you. Corrupted you; well, tried anyhow."

"Oh Sam! We're so sorry. We never knew!" The Queen cried.

It was hard to digest. "What's done is done. The riff raff are my family. And...you? You'll be my family?"

"Forever. What do you say to a wedding?" The High Angel proposed.

_"While Eve and Trab were carted off screaming, Sam spared no more thoughts on them. He feasted and danced, laughing at Sac throwing such herky jerky moves on the dance floor. He smiled at Kerj, ever hanging back to watch others he loved enjoying themselves. And howled at Tougan, jumping and catching balls in his mouth throughout the night. As the new sun began to rise and his head spun from too much celebration ale, he swung his Queen on his back and tossed his Angel in a cart, heading to the royal bedroom to consummate their marriage properly. He would then take his rightful place on the throne as King of H-"_

"I'm gonna stop your little narrator monologue thing right there, your Royal Annoyingmiss, cause you’re high as fuck right now. And if I gotta hear another word from the Queen, her High Angel, and their Boy King the Samshine, I'm going to blow Gabe's brains out. Capiche?" Dean queried with anger threatening to bubble over in the bunker hallway where they all stood.

Sam smiled sheepishly. "Kerj! There you are, Kerj, krg, JERK!!!"

"Goddammit Sam! Keep your fucking role play kink crap downstairs!" Dean barked.

Sam realized he was holding Gabriel's legs and walking him like a wheelbarrow.

Gabe sensed irritation. "Take out all fucks and kinks, then all that's left is role play. Where's the fun in that? May as well get a 9-5am at the best little whorehouse in Texas."

Dean's eyes were ablaze, Sam kind of understood why. That tended to happen when Gabriel tried putting fires out with gasoline.

"What's in the candy? Some kind of sexual performance roofie?" Dean demanded, showing him a wrapper.

"Why, not enjoying the uh, side effects? They say in four hours if it doesn't go down-"

"Cut the crap! Cas' been doing the Hokey Pokey dance with his pecker on the War Room table for the last two hours. And Jack thinks he's juggling for the circus, but all he's doing is levitating balls around his room, complaining his nuts hurt! Keep this stuff out of the communal cookie jar!" Dean harped.

Rowena piped up from her piggy back ride atop of Sam, "I'll keep the sweeties in my stores from now on. Oh and Dean.." Rowena caught his attention, "kink shame him again, I'll slap you and tweetie pie with a sex in public spell, Capiche?"

Sam watched him roll his eyes and slam his bedroom door. The three of them burst into laughter and fumbled down to their other room. Gabriel snapped his fingers, and their fog induced high disappeared. He plopped on the bed, still working on his lollipop, and Rowena turned on the fireplace. Sam was unbuttoning his shirt when commenting on the offending candy.

"You're lucky you don't get cavities, how can you constantly eat that stuff?"

"Don't do it because I'm hungry. Keeps my mouth busy, and I like having something to suck on all day," he replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Spit it out. I've got something right here you can suck on." He gave Gabriel a demanding look when unzipping his pants. He sat back in a chair with his dick in his hand and a maniacal, hungry look in his eyes.

Gabriel spat out the candy so fast Sam almost missed it. "Hells yeah you do, lucky me."

Sam watched as his clothes instantly disappeared with a finger snap to reveal his angel already sporting a semi. Rowena was undressing behind Gabriel and would likely join the fun in a while. Sam loved to give her voyeurism kink a little something to stoke the fire. For now, he was content with his hand until his mighty man relieved him of the task.

Gabriel straddled him in the chair first, craving some kisses which he was happy to give. Sam loved tasting the lingering sweetness on his tongue as the angel pushed past his lips. They held each other, kissing for a few minutes, enjoying the crackles and pops from the cozy fireplace. When Gabriel broke the kiss, Sam was lost in his beautiful amber eyes. Gently touching his angel's cheek, he brushed his hair behind his ear. Their hearts were beating like wild horses and both groaned when their cocks made contact. Their shafts slid together, deliciously slick from precum.

Sam's left hand glided down Gabriel’s back, warming his smooth skin and coming to rest on the swell of his ass. He gripped a handful of his cheek, and gave him a good squeeze before pulling him even closer. With both of them in Sam's loving hand, they sat there nudging and thrusting together, reveling in the delectable sensations. But Gabriel was a hungry boy and Sam knew what would sate his appetite.

When Gabe slithered down to his knees onto the floor, Sam widened his legs, comfortably accommodating his angel. His head fell back against the chair when the heat of his boyfriend's mouth wrapped around his cock and sucked. Until Gabriel, Rowena took first place in the 'who sucked him best' contest. But that angel’s mouth was literally heaven, and could take every breathtaking inch of him, both still and in pistoning beast mode.

Gabe deep throated him a few times and then Sam started with slow, shallow thrusts. His eyes opened to find Rowena perched on the edge of the bed enraptured by the scene, with her knee up and two fingers softly opening herself. What a glorious sight to behold while their celestial boyfriend sucked him like he was drinking a thick vanilla shake through a straw.

He was hard as nails and needed to hit the brakes. Running his fingers through Gabriel's hair, he sat up and when the angel's gaze met his, he pulled him into a deep kiss. Then, he scooped hot wings up and dumped him on their massive bed so his prey-slash-lovers were side by side and underneath him, at his mercy.

Rowena welcomed his weight cautiously resting on her. She pulled him down, greeting him with a fiery kiss. Her lips were as soft as flower petals, making love to his, syncing them in rhythm and intensity. They were two souls, so in tune with one another and Gabriel's grace had been a puzzle piece they hadn't known was missing until they'd found him again.

Not wishing to part lips yet with his magical enchantress, but needing to please his angel beside them, Sam's fingers instinctively trailed down Gabriel's stomach. He took his sweet time, having plenty of it.

The fresh heather and lilac scent of Rowena reminded him of his short time abroad with Dean. She was the refreshing mountain air, a mystical siren's call. Her very presence exuded the spirit and allure of her homeland. Gabriel was a cooling ointment to his scarred and blistered soul, his jovial laughter bringing relief, when lost under the crushing burdens carried from the hunter’s life. And his celestial song, a heavenly ballad welcoming a weary warrior in need of rest and finding home in his embrace. Sam thirsted for both, and knew how blessed he was to have them.

His fingers walked familiar, pleasant paths. Massaging Rowena's breasts, worshipping their swell in his hand, he took her nipple in his mouth, playing with it. His other hand fell into a blissful rhythm, stroking Gabriel's hardening length. Though his vessel was short in stature, not all of his anatomy fell under that generalization. To say he had big dick energy was extremely accurate. He and Rowena never walked away unsatisfied. Sometimes it took a while to walk, period. Tonight however, they were feeling adventurous and experimental.

That's what led to Gabe riding Sam in reverse cowgirl, laying back on him with Rowena on top of their pleasure pile, going '69' mph.. wink, wink. Sam couldn't believe it was working, but damn it was hot. Gabriel set a brilliant pace with quick, shallow thrusts up into Rowena's mouth, then back down onto Sam's cock. Sam was panting, his angel’s tight hole gripping and squeezing him juuust right. And the view? Spectacular.

Sam witnessed him in all his multitasking glory. Maybe it was all the lollipops over the decades, or maybe it wasn't. But his oral game was on point. His palms were filled with Rowena's hot little ass, his tongue buried in her pussy which squirmed in the most luscious way against his mouth. When letting go of her cheeks to spread her wet slit open, Sam got the perfect view of that swollen, pink entrance. Every time he buried his cock into Gabriel's ass, he also imagined he was filling her up, or flicking and sucking on her clit. Angel mojo would leave them requiring little to no recovery time. Oh how he loved these two.

Knowing the night was full of opportunity, Sam let himself wind up. He planted his feet further apart for better leverage, pistoning fast and hard into Gabriel. Between the slapping of their skin and how deep he was burying himself in his angel, his abdominal muscles coiled in anticipation. The orgasm which was building suddenly went into nitro, and he was exploding inside of Gabe. He fucked himself through the rippling pulses, breathing hard and sighing in bliss.

As soon as his brain could think properly, he extricated himself so they could have more room to keep the good times rolling. Gabriel assumed the same position he had, but propped himself up on his hands. Rowena didn't even miss a beat and hopped on, reverse cowgirl as well. She rode hard and met each of his counter thrusts. He could watch her getting off for hours, confident and happy, with her eyes on the prize, so to speak.

Not wanting to be left out completely, Sam lended a helping hand, giving her clit gentle stimulation to offset the bronco she appeared to be fuck riding into submission. Her little moans fell in time to Gabe pumping into her, and her tits bounced in the most playful, mesmerizing way. Occasionally Gabe slipped out, so Sam generously stroked him, sucking the taste of Rowena off his thick head, then putting him back in. He'd return to rubbing circles into her clit and playing with her nipples.

The sound of Gabriel's ragged breathing was indication he would be coming any second. His thrusting quickened, then stilled as the angel let loose a startling roar that shattered the light bulbs.

"That's it Gabe, I got ya buddy. Keep going. Give her all that angel cum," Sam assured while pumping Gabriel's cock through the remaining surges. The faint glowing fluid looked gorgeous hitting her creamy skin.

Cooing to a whimpering Rowena, Sam soothed, "Shhh, I'll take care of you. Look at all that cum. It's perfect, isn't it?"

He slid three fingers inside her, then withdrew, softly coating her opening. Sam knew Gabe's grace tingled, enhancing sensations in the best way, and was a crack whore for it in the beginning. Now he had more control, but still loved using it to draw out a release from himself or Rowena.

She was gasping and holding onto Gabriel's thighs behind her for dear life as her orgasm finally hit and sent her into orbit. While Sam brought her down slowly, he held Gabriel's face and kissed him. Moments later, Rowena collapsed on Gabriel in a heap.

"I don't know about you two, but I think we can consider Fairy Tale Friday a success," Rowena admitted when her breath finally evened out.

Sam helped her up, then Gabe. Hugging them both, he asked, "Completely agree. Which one should we play next?"

Gabriel looked around the room. When something caught his interest he waggled his eyebrows and suggested, "How about a little mirror, mirror play?"

Downing a tumbler of Craig, Rowena giggled, towing them both into the shower. "The better to see all your kinky fuckery with."


	7. Dancing in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art submission for John/Bobby/Cain bingo square

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece is called "Dancing in the Dark." Were-bear husbands John(California Brown bear) and Bobby(California Black Bear) drank a batch of their other husbands new mead, and it's a bit potent. Kodiac Cain is amoosed, watching them dance.

  



	8. Lost Horizon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1995: Operation Deny Flight  
> Soviet MiG's have invaded Bosnian Airspace. Pilots Dean, Cas, and Inias are sent to rendezvous with Sam, Gabriel, and Adam on a mission to intercept the intended attack on NATO's ground force defense of Bosnian and Croat civilians. But when a bogie disappears, the dogfight becomes perilous for one of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These next three "chapters" or bingo squares are part of a story called, "Rescue Me." This one features Dean/Cas/Inias and is very loosely based on events which occurred during the devastating wars in the Balkan region back in 1990's. 
> 
> Allow me to reassure you, I have the utmost respect for the brave men and women who served from various countries, especially in the Balkan states themselves, against the savage dictators and the extremists operating under their names. I lost a friend serving there and I know many people who lost friends and family whom served there and also called it home during this dangerous part of their history. 
> 
> Many thanks to tfw-cas, @Banshee, and Sandwitch42 for their alpha, beta, and military consultant services and for helping me not thoroughly make an ass of myself... in these regards, anyhow. Lol.
> 
> A HUGE thanks and hug to the AMAZING artist Anyrei, who gifted me the STUNNING covert art to this story. Happy Birthday Any, these fics are for you!!! She's a fan of Inias and also the F-35 jets flown by Sam, Gabriel, and Adam, which of course are lethal sky predators and beautiful. Any also put MY beloved A-10 Thunderbolt Warthog front and center, as its the jet of choice and love of Dean, Cas, and Inias. Yes my Warthog geek slips out, and no, I ain't tucking it back in because it's a fucking badass 41 year old BEAST that just got a renewed military contract to serve well into the 2040's for vital aerial combat missions. 
> 
> The art piece in-fic, is mine and was going to be my cover art until Any asked if she could make one(AS IF I'D SAY NO). It's not even an echo of her talent, but I've gotta start somewhere and put myself out there and this is me doing so. 
> 
> Helpful terms for this fic:  
> Terms:  
> S.A.M. -surface to air missiles  
> S.A.M.R.-situational awareness radar  
> HUD- heads up display  
> AWACS- airborne warning and control system  
> Link 16 satcom- satellite communications suite in the A-10 cockpit
> 
> A-10 Warthog Pilots  
> Dean- callsign: Avenger  
> Cas- callsign: Fairchild  
> Inias- callsign: Beast  
> F-35B Pilots  
> Sam- callsign: Moose  
> Gabe- callsign: Trickster  
> Adam- callsign: Archangel
> 
> Ready for take off? Good. Flaps out, wheels up, and happy flying..mostly.

  


_June 2, 1995 08:23am_

_Aviano AFB, Italy_

"Gentlemen, I apologize for waking you, but we have a situation," Commander Singer paused, conveying said situation could become a shitstorm.

Dean, Castiel, and Inias sat in the briefing room, bleary eyed and downing every drop of scalding caffeine available. They fought against fatigue to absorb the onslaught of vital information for which they'd been summoned, before heading up again on another mission. 

"At 0800 hours, Serbian extremists began firing on our air patrols. Fifteen minutes ago, AWACS picked up four inbound MiG's. The Kearsarge is a few clicks from the coast near Dubrovnik and Captain Cain just deployed three F-35B's. You'll rendezvous, and they'll take the MiG while you give NATO ground forces air support in their continued defense of Bosnian and Croat civilians," Commander Singer informed. 

Dean was a wreck. Hell, all of them were. They'd been flying double shifts since the Serbian extremist militia bulldozed their way into Herzegovina. "Any of ours been hit yet?"

"Fortunately no, but that's why we're sending you three," Singer replied. 

The pilots were dismissed and remained silent until safely in the elevator bringing them down to ground level. 

"You think Sam, Gabe, and Adam were sent up?" Castiel asked, nuzzling into Dean's neck. 

When Sam and Adam had notified Dean they were being sent to the Adriatic Sea so close to him, he hadn't wanted his younger brothers in such proximity to the conflict. But he also knew they were deployed because of their skill in the cockpit of their F-35's. _And_ they had Gabriel. 

"I know so. They're the best pilots that boat has," Dean murmured as he readjusted his vest. 

Dean felt Inias lean against the wall to his other side, closing his eyes in exhaustion. He secretly laced his fingers with Dean’s, giving him a light squeeze. Such a simple gesture of comfort for people in love, yet even that wasn't permitted in the U.S. military era of 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell.'

Didn't mean they were opposed to playing with fire. Cas attacked him on the regular in their shoebox barracks. Inias was right next door, and often slithered in undetected to partake in what little physical intimacy could be shared between the three of them. 

Earlier that morning, he'd fully intended on peeling off his flight suit and passing the fuck out, seeing as how their night flight exercises had run ninety minutes over their official end of shift. The second Cas closed the door behind them, Dean was pressed up against it by a wall of demanding, iron strong muscle. Any objections he may have had were silenced by an urgent, hot kiss. 

Just like that, sleep could suddenly go fuck itself. He had Cas's lips leaving a scorching trail down his neck, a beautifully toned thigh nudging his knees further apart, and a cock as hard as marble maniacally coaxing his out to play. When he found his arms pinned above his head, he smiled, deciding to stoke the fires of Castiel's demanding side. "Hmm, my attention _Sir_ , you fucking have it."

The ensuing smile pulling at Cas's lips had him twitching and shivering in anticipation. A needy hand broke the phenomenal contact between their dicks, tugging at Dean's hard length, steadily growing under his flight suit. His hand covered Cas's, and he pressed himself even harder into his angel’s palm. 

When Dean's other hand moved to unzip his suit, they heard a familiar, patterned knock at the door. It changed every month for added protection, and this month was song number six from the Top Gun soundtrack. Upon recognition of a few chorus bars from "Playing with the Boys," they let Inias in.

Dean pulled him in for a goodmorning kiss, while Cas continued unzipping his suit, stopping just below his waist. He'd already managed to unzip his own suit in the same manner. 

Cas murmured in his ear, "Inias also has your attention. I do love your multitasking skills, Dean."

Aware that Inias's hand had replaced Cas's, Dean smirked and he was about to reciprocate both their affections when he could hear that Inias had turned his head towards Cas, suggesting, "Wouldn't want to interrupt any more than I have. What would you say to me dividing my attention between the both of _you_ , hm?" 

He cupped Dean's boys, then slid his palm beneath his boxer briefs, relying on the slow drag of his hand applying extra pressure in a languid rhythm up and down his shaft to make a convincing case. Cas's breath hitched, and Dean knew Inias was paying attention to him with breathtaking equality. 

"If we can take good care of you right after," Dean quietly promised, grabbing a handful of his ass and squeezing hard.

Cas's hand gripped the bulge growing in the front of Inias's suit and nibbled on his neck. "Very, very good care of you." 

The insinuation had Inias whipping out a pocket sized bottle of lube with which to coat his hands. In no time, he had them down the front of their boxer briefs and pulling them out so as to more easily gift his attention. After a few minutes, he had Dean and Cas wrapped within one tight channel, made by his palms pressing their slick cocks together. 

"Uhn j-jeez, I'm so close," Cas huffed as quietly as he could a little later, "Dean, your cock feels so good. Move just a little faster."

Dean obliged, quickening his pace, which also had him hurtling towards orgasm. Moments before they came, all three of their pagers went off, blinking with their emergency designations. 

"Sonuvabitch!" Dean growled. 

What ended up happening was a triple circlejerk lasting under four minutes. It got the job done, but it wasn't nearly as satisfying as what they _could have done._ All were cleaned up and present for the debriefing, thoroughly irritated about it.

Now in the elevator, Dean folded his fingers more tightly into Inias's, rubbing the top of his thumb with his own. "Sorry about earlier. We'll make it up to you."

Inias smiled, "I'm not worried." 

At times, something as small as this was the only comfort the three of them could risk before taking to the skies. Yet, such was the life they'd chosen. Their hearts belonged to the clouds, breaking the sound barrier while racing to defend those who couldn't defend themselves. 

When the elevator opened, all affection ceased like clockwork and they walked onto the instrument runway leading to their planes. Although Dean knew they'd be joining Sammy, Adam, and Gabe, theirs had been a different path, but only slightly. Those three had been drawn to the breakneck speed of the lighter weight fighter jets. But Dean, Cas, and Inias had vied for the A-10 Thunderbolt Warthogs right outta the flight academy's gate. 

Until Iraq, the Thunderbolts had been exceptionally underestimated. They weren't nearly as fast, nor were they as majestic as the F-35's. But what they lacked in speed they compensated for in brute force with awe. Sammy had been surprised Dean fought so hard for admission into the A-10's pilot program. But his unbridled enthusiasm left zero doubt the plane had stolen his heart.

_"Sam, the Warthog's a fucking sky tank. Their pilots are encased in twelve hundred pounds of titanium armor paneling. It holds against all armor piercing munitions. The entire thing was designed around its 30mm Gatling cannon which obliterates every kind of tank and other armored vehicles. Its low altitude range reaches one hundred feet, which means it can practically tickle the sand with its wings while blowing every anti air assault machine into the next universe! And it turns on a goddamn dime…"_

Neither Sam, John, or Adam questioned his choice after that. 

While Gabriel and his brothers would intercept the Migs, the A-10's would sweep the Serbian extremists’ ant-sized threat off the face of the earth without breaking a sweat, and make it back to the mess hall in time for eggs and bacon. 

Dean tightened his vest and pulled down his helmet when climbing into the cockpit. He buckled up while the Italian runway crew closed his bubble canopy. He switched on the nav systems multi function HUD display and primed the ignitions. Then tossed warm glances at the two men he'd irrevocably fallen in love with at the Air Force Academy. 

When taxiing to the main runway Dean radioed, "Torre, questo è Avenger, che richiede l'autorizzazione per il decollo." 

When the Italian control tower confirmed, "Avenger, sei pronto per il decollo," Dean gunned his engine thrusters and tore down the runway. _Those engines had nine thousand pounds of thrust each, thank you very much._ So it was completely understandable how the G force pushing him back against his seat during take off always thrilled him into sporting a half-chub by the time he was airborne and pulling in the wheel strut doors.

He heard clearance given to Beast, then Fairchild immediately after. Within minutes they'd caught up with the F-35's, whose surveillance radars had detected their Warthog's 'friendly' pulses long before Dean had a visual lock on them.

"Aw crap, they'll let any Hog riff raff on this playground, won't they?" Gabriel lovingly jabbed via their Link 16 satcoms, "gotta start making this mile high club more exclusive."

Dean laughed, "Mornin' Trickster, heard they were gonna phase out all 'paper airplanes' and keep the ones who can toss some serious weight around. They don't call us flying armories for nothin'."

Gabriel and Sam had been together for five years and were still going strong. He was the reason Dean could sleep at night; his brother had one heck of an awesome boyfriend, and both his younger brothers were under the protective wings of the best fighter pilot the Navy had. 

"Rumor has it, some Soviets got stupid and started a Rumble in the Bronx with NATO. Threw some rocks at your F-15's via S.A.M. launchers earlier today," Beast chimed in.

"Keep a weathered eye, it's good to be flying with you guys again," Gabriel steered the convo from lighthearted banter to the more mission driven topic of the hour. 

Sam's voice then crackled over the com. "Hate to be a buzzkill, but we've got four party crashers, one o'clock."

"Nice to see you too, Moose," Dean issued with a grin. 

Sam chuckled, "Long time no chat, Avenger." 

While Gabe relayed the MiG’s location to the Kearsarge, Dean spotted their Fingertip formation and witnessed each plane break off in different directions. It wasn't officially a combat engagement until shots were fired, but the GPS on Dean's display indicated all MiGs had turned into Lag pursuit positioning, all but promising to make it official any damn second. 

"CO this is Archangel, I'm positive for missile lock." Adam's voice was as calm as a teen in history class when updating his Commander. 

"The MiG?" Dean's heart was in his throat. He'd flown with him during Desert Storm and the kid never broke a sweat. 

"Negative Avenger, S.A.M. in origin," Adam clarified. 

Dean didn't know why his CO didn't insist on changing his callsign to Cool Hand Luke.

Gabriel left no doubt he had full control of the situation. "Alright kiddos, starboard aileron in three-two-one."

"Commander Singer, this is Fairchild. Positive Missile lock on Archangel's F-35 from a S.A.M. Permission to fire?" 

Of course he was gonna fire, but protocol dictated they had to wait until fired upon.

Commander Singer responded predictably. "Negative Fairchild, not until it’s live."

Cas had decreased altitude for better fire positioning, Inias and Dean had followed suit without a word. They knew each other's flight behaviors as well as each other's movements and mannerisms. 

Two seconds later sensors indicated its live trajectory, and Dean finally let some air out of his lungs seeing his HUD’s predictive trajectory missing Adam's plane by eleven meters. Gabriel continued leading their port bank out of the displacement roll, but everyone heard the MiG's bullet spray as it swooped down, narrowly missing the F-35's flight path.

"It's live Sir, permission to fire?" Cas asked.

Singer issued, "Take it out." 

"S.A.M. launch in range." 

Dean heard Cas's verbal confirmation while the ping of his target lock rang loudly in all their ears. 

"Fairchild firing," he stated. 

By the time it hit, he was already climbing back to his previous altitude. 

Cas spewed, "Eat that, AIM 9 Sidewinder ..-.."

Finishing the sentiment with an expletive wasn't permitted, but they all knew he was silently mouthing ' _bitch.'_

Sammy radioed, "Thanks for having our backs, Fairchild."

"My pleasure, Moose."

Inias informed, "Gentleman, unfortunately we've gotta take a quick smoke break. NATO General just painted coordinates for another S.A.M. fifteen clicks south."

"We can take it from here. Moose out."

Dean switched off the Link 16 satcom while watching the attacking MiG rejoin the other three, and had a sinking feeling in his gut. Yet, their orders were to destroy the other surface-to-air missile launcher. Sam, Gabriel, and Adam had navigated through far worse in their exercise simulations and passed with flying colors. He had absolute faith in their capabilities, so it must be the big brother in him that couldn't shake this feeling.

They found the other launcher site and Inias blew it off the face of the earth. When cruising further south, Dean spotted activity beside a body of water well shielded by hills. A unit of Serbian extremists were readying two Howitzer cannons, pointed at each flank of the NATO convoy positioned for civilian defense. The hillside facing the convoy would be rife with incoming mortar teams. When given the go ahead from Commander Singer, they used laser guided bombs to decimate the Howies. Then double backed to light up the Serbian mortar teams just over the hillside. 

When Dean opened his gun bay vent and fired the Gatling cannon, the adrenaline high was greater than any drug on earth. The hallmark _brrrrrrrrrrrrt! of_ the Warthog's ammunition cannon feed was symphony to his ears. Depending on which side a soldier was fighting for, it heralded salvation or death. Opening the air vent outlets, smoke from the cannon's cartridge return chutes billowed, briefly covering the canopy. He'd grown accustomed to it, but the first time opening fire during the pilot program's live exercises, he'd almost shit his flight suit thinking the cockpit was ablaze. 

_Pew pew motherfuckers._

For now, the ground forces were in good shape. "Beast, Fairchild, time to check back on those Serbian party crashers."

The dogfight had slipped so much further south than anticipated; they were now in Serbian airspace. Dean could see one of the F-35's on radar, flying in a lead pursuit position, cutting the MiG off while another forced it to follow the first into an S spin. 

He switched his satcoms back on to hear Gabriel's praise. "That's it Moose, force him into the sun.” 

Then Adam's jubilation. "I've got him! He's falling into rudder roll. Switching to guns." 

Seconds later, the MiG's belly came into view and Adam sprayed it with bullets. The portside engine ignited, quickly consuming the wing and pitching it into uncontrolled aerial cartwheels. The plane was toast. 

Each time they took down a target, it was second nature to spare a few thoughts on the vulnerability of where another plane had been hit, reflect on their own aircraft’s weak spots, and mentally review the damage protocol to maximize troubleshooting efforts. 

All of them had read the years’ latest reports from the HOG UP repair and upgrade program, which reported weakness in the craft's twenty third wing station during fatigue testing. It'd been deemed critical enough to classify as a repair, not some upgrade that could wait. Though their crafts were switched out every three months for services and repairs that couldn't be done overseas, Dean knew none of the crafts they were in today had been through the WS23 repair circuit yet. He hoped this weakness had thus far remained a secret to the Serbian MiG pilots.

Inias jokingly scolded, "Two bogies left. How about you Navy brats leave some carrion for the rest of us, huh?" 

"Well if ain't the wild _bores_ ," Trickster exclaimed, the mile wide grin evident in his voice.

"Fairchild here, wondering what we missed. We were busy ridding NATO of S.A.M.s, Howies, and a partridge in a pear tree."

"Oh, we just drank a couple of the Soviet Scooby Gang under the table, it's cute how Scrappy Doo One and Two think there's still a fight going on."

 _Two MiGs down, two left. Where'd they go?_ Dean thought to himself.

Inias's radar warning receiver chirped, signaling someone was dialing him in on their target radar. 

"Beast, there's a MiG paintin' you, get away from him!" Dean yelled.

He pulled a hard left into an evasive turn and Dean urged, "Watch your corner speed!" 

"I'm on him!" Gabriel promised, and took off with his professional and life wingman Sam.

Meanwhile Dean asked, "Archangel, got eyes on Scrappy Doo two?"

"Negative, been scanning but I've got nothing."

"I don't like it. And what the hell's Beast doing?!" Dean barked as he watched Inias pull up his nose, pointing it into the stratosphere. 

"Beast, quit playing and get back down here!"

"You know he won't let up if he's hatched some plan." 

Cas meant to point out Inias's more tenacious tendencies in the spirit of reassurance. Dean knew his speech patterns and tone so well, even over the coms he still picked up on the concern laced in his voice. But Cas was right, underneath their lovers’ unsuspecting, soft spoken exterior was a sky predator who went after his targets like they'd insulted his wings then slaughtered his entire family. Hence the callsign _Beast_.

Cas added, "Let's just hope the Moose and Trickster read his mind."

It was hard to maintain visual contact on them so far above the cloud canopy, reflecting the morning sun off their planes. 

"Beast _please,_ you're gonna hit the ceiling! Pull back now!" Dean ordered, his panic beginning to show.

"There a new Hail Mary up the Hog's sleeve I missed in the latest issue of A-10 Monthly?" Adam asked. 

Cas had already lost his cool. "No, and Beast you're at forty three thousand feet, you take any more altitude and you'll go into G lock!"

"Beast this is Trickster, Moose is at your nine, I'm at your aft six. Traffic’s kinda congested this morning. I'm gonna need you to flip a bitch and take the fast lane in the opposite direction, we cool?"

"Uh-huh."

Dean could hear Inias's struggle to breathe; the guy was pulling 9 G's, racing head on with the A-10's flight ceiling, and nowhere to go but through the roof into Stalls-ville.

"I've been holding something in aaaall morning…" the Trickster maniacally sang, indicating mischievous aerial bathroom humor was afoot. He was brewing a plan that involved the MiG getting crop dusted by his F-35, and/or getting shit on in one form or another. "Beast, on three you're gonna shift lanes into a right drag pump. Three, two, one."

In this situation, Dean knew it was Inias's only way out, and he watched him execute the maneuver as if they'd been practicing it in sim for months. Inias made a 90° right turn, letting the inertia yank his tail around to complete the 180° and primed his thrusters in countermeasure. As his plane was rocketing back towards the earth, he gracefully fell into a 540° vertical maneuver, flying upside down for a time before correcting his craft, right side up.

Meanwhile, Gabriel smoothly slipped into his previous spot and prefaced his next move with, "Hey Moose, you mind pulling over for a minute? Gotta pinch one off."

Sam ghosted himself in familiar anticipation for whatever stunt Gabriel was about to pull. Dean could hear the rare sound of Adam's hysterical glee. Three seconds later he was stunned to see the Trickster ejecting one of his fuel pods onto the MiG and getting the hell outta Dodge. It burst, dousing the craft, and then ignited when Sam showered it with gun fire.

"Kinky S.O.B.," Adam laughed. 

Gabriel feigned offense, "Don't shame me pipsqueak! Everyone needs to experience a proper Golden Shower once in their life!"

Everyone was laughing in hearty relief at Gabe's shenanigans while the MiG went out like a comet. 

"Yeah, except that one ended his life," Sam chuckled. 

"Good riddance!" Gabriel exclaimed, rejoining the group, "Who's got eyes on that last-"

The sudden and continuous pinging of an A-10 Warthog on a bogie's death dot sent a collective, hypothermic chill down everyone's spine.

"Where is it?! I can't see it! There's a missile lock on me!" Cas announced, turning to scan the all-round vision of his bubble canopy. 

All of them were checking their HUDs and looking around. 

"I can't see him, Goddammit! Cas, move! Fucking move! Get outta there!" Dean hollered.

Right before their eyes, the MiG silently dropped below the cloud canopy like a terrifying alien UFO, having hidden above in a prolonged, high altitude stall to avoid radar detection. 

"I see-" Adam was cut off by the sickening sound of a launching missile, "AA-11!!!! Fairchild MOVE!!!!"

Dean pleaded, "CAS!! HE'S FIRED AN Archer MISSILE, GET OUT N-"

In Cas's effort to evade the inbound missile fired at point blank from directly above him, he went left, unknowingly turning into the missile’s path. Dean heard the explosion and something inside him cracked. 

"I'm hit! I'm hit! Starboard wing's partially separated." 

Dean saw orange flames licking the fuselage, and pitch black smoke streaming from the wing joint. He tried like hell to swallow the bile and vomit rising in his throat along with his heart. "Fairchild, you can fly without the wing."

"Avenger, it pierced the wheel fairing and the pressure refueling line. The main fuel cell is under so much pressure, it can't hold the wings’ remaining ammunitions payload. Any second the weight and wind is going to rip half the fuselage apart and the cell along with it."

_The twenty third wing station, sonuvabitch!_

"Fairchild, switch on your fuel jettison outlet," Inias lifelessly instructed. 

"Beast, no!" Dean strongly objected. 

"Avenger, unless you know of a way to separate his wing manually, the longer he stays in the cockpit the greater the risk of the entire fuselage exploding."

He knew Inias was right. He knew he wasn't thinking rationally. "We're two kilometers from the Serbian border. You land over here, it's a line we can't cross!"

"It's a _chance_ search and rescue finds me versus becoming a flaming meteor, Dean! I know I told you guys I wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, but if I've got a shot with ejecting and evading the hostiles down there until I'm found, I'm gonna take it!"

"You've got this, Fairchild. Trained harder than anyone else. You stay alive, got me?!" Inias railed. His anger was the only thing holding the tears back. 

"As you wish," was the only way for Cas to say 'I love you', before initiating the shut down and ejection sequence.

Only seconds had passed since he'd been hit, but it felt like a lifetime for Dean. An excruciatingly painful, shitty one. Sam, Adam, and Gabriel were already in pursuit of the MiG. Dean and Inias would exploit their plane's extended loiter capabilities as long as they could to remain with Cas. 

"Commander Singer, I'm initiating the ejection sequence."

Dean heard him pulling the seat’s ejection gun that would launch him upwards at a whopping eighteen G's. 

Singer confirmed with heavy melancholy, "Understood, Fairchild, Good luck and Godspeed."

Cas's canopy shattered and Dean's heart followed suit. He watched as his seats' rocket motor spit him up and out with over five thousand pounds of thrust. 

They'd all been through the thousands of hours of training for this. All of them had passed out. All had turned their stomachs inside out. And each had done it on repeat until their bodies’ equilibrium had been rewired to remain conscious, and function so they could maneuver their drogue parachutes to a safe geography, even if said geography was hot and hostile, like it was at the Serbian border. But for Dean and Inias, it was like helplessly watching the love of their lives float down into piranha infested waters. 

Search and rescue would move heaven and earth to retrieve him from the hell in which his chute was descending, the rest was in God's hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not sorry for the cliffhanger! But I hope I've left it on a thrilling enough note that you want to continue! No MCD in this I swear, Scouts honor. Well, unless you count the bad guys.
> 
> I'm compelled to convey my respect and awe for the MiG 29 aircraft. There've been Warthog pilots who have flown them and reported both it's design and the skill of Soviet pilots as extremely formidable. The one common criticism our pilots had, was the lack of 360 degree situational awareness in the cockpit that exist on the Warthogs, thanks mostly due to their bubble canopy. If the MiG's design encompassed such a feature, they're certain many outcomes would've been different. But I'm sure this is about as exciting to you as Sammy reciting Stanford law textbooks so....
> 
> Read on to find out what happens with Cas, and who joins this poly party...


	9. Beacon from the Bayou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Cas ejects from his plane in hostile territory, Dean and Inias are repeatedly sent back up to distract them from crippling worry. By night, they comfort each other in their boyfriend's terrifying absence. As days pass, Cas relies on his survival training and unexpectedly finds a beacon. One representing hope and home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to the second installment of Rescue Me! I know I said I was arting all my fic covers, but the lovely Anyrei gifted me the gorgeous one from the last square and in my effort to crank these three squares out and post them before getting buried under Destiel Christmas, I ran out of time. This square is also for Any and is the Four Corner Marriage, so yer gettin' Dean/Cas/Inias/Benny!
> 
> Thanks again so much to tfw-cas, @Banshee1013, and Sandwich42 for the alpha, beta, and military consultant help!!! I love what I've learned so far and hope any other military peeps can feel I've got the basics down so it's a comfortable read. 
> 
> This story is longer, I had too much fun with it. Full Disclosure: It very loosely inspired by events during the 1990's Balkan Wars. This installment in particular, may resemble the experience of Fighter Pilot Scott O'Grady, whose real life harrowing tale lead to the movie, "Behind Enemy Lines." Because he was so displeased by the movie and later sued, in addition to wanting only to depict military service men and women with respect, I've elected to depict only these facts: that he went down behind enemy lines, survived there a few days, and was safely rescued. The details of this story are of my own making under the experienced advisory of both @Banshee1013 and Sandwich42. That being said, I hope you guys like it!
> 
> Terms of import:  
> S.E.R.E. Training- Survive, Evade, Resist, Escape.

  


_June 2, 1995_

_Day 1_

"Singer, _Sir_. Permission to pursue?" Dean heard Inias request. 

"Negative. Return to base."

"But Sir, we-"

"I said _no._ Two Winchesters are after that MiG already, anything else goes further south than it already has I'm not telling your Daddy why all three of his boys came home wearing toe tags!"

"But they-"

"Aren't my responsibility, _you_ are! So get back here now, that's an order!"

Dean wanted to catch the asshole that did this. Wanted to incapacitate his wings, pull them off slowly, then rip him from the pyre of his burning cockpit and do the same to his body. He _hated_ having to return with his tail between his legs. 

When he and Inias made it back, neither had the heart nor the stomach to speak. Fortunately neither did the runway crew, who could be bubbly at times. Dean wanted nothing more than to shower and get available updates, but he knew that was a long ways off. 

The second they made it inside, Singer had sent someone to collect them for a mandatory debriefing. They recounted their steps, gave their testimony as was required of them after such an incident. The infirmary verified they were fatigued, indicating the expected levels of physical and mental distress, but otherwise fit to fly after acquiring eight to twelve hours of sleep.

Singer approached them in the men's locker room after they showered, looking grim.

After they saluted him, Inias immediately wanted to know, "Any news?"

But Singer shook his head. "Picked up initial morse code indicating he's alive, but with heat on him. Nothing the last few hours."

And Dean knew there wouldn't be. Cas would be given a series of coordinates to reach, and only after doing so would verbal communication be attempted. 

Bobby continued speaking. "I'm in a hard position here, but you knew that when you were offered alternative deployments under someone else's command and turned them down. We've had to keep things strictly professional, even though it's no secret I'm as good as your uncle."

Dean and Inias weren't completely sure where this was going, but they paid him the respect of listening, for the time he'd taken out of his own crap day to express something of significance to _him_.

His facial expression took on a sharpness, the kind which indicated his words carried more weight than was possible, or even permissible, to explain in their current location and situation in general.

"I flew for a long time. Lost people. Even found a lucky few. Never had the _unique_ _camaraderie_ you three have. But I need you both to understand that to the best of my ability, _I comprehend_ the fear and ache inside you right now."

Dean's skin erupted in goosebumps. There was no immediate threat to them, of that he was sure. And maybe it was him running on fumes; they hadn't slept in almost two days. But he felt as if Bobby had just revealed he not only knew Dean wasn't straight, but that he knew about him, Inias, and Cas. 

Had Bobby been retired or non military, Dean would have no issue with Bobby knowing. John knew, and his only fear was the consequences for his sons, due to the current laws which would kill the careers they'd worked so hard for. He, Adam, and Sam agreed not to put Bobby in the position of having to keep their secret, at least until he retired.

Dean cautiously replied, making intense eye contact. "We appreciate your understanding, Sir." 

Bobby nodded, looking a little relieved, and issued a promise before leaving. "I'll relay anything I learn."

Inias and Dean both straightened, then saluted. "Thank you, Sir."

They went to their rooms. Dean tried to sleep. Logically, he knew there was nothing he could be doing to make Cas's situation any easier. But he couldn't let go, even to open the floodgates in the privacy of his room. 

The knock on the door came in a familiar pattern, and he opened it more swiftly than he'd expected. Strong arms embraced him, cradled him like an emotionally intuitive body pillow on his almost-too-small-bed. Soon, his hair was just as wet as his cheeks. Dean hadn't realized he'd locked the floodgates so tightly; but Inias had the spare key, and Dean was unbelievably grateful. 

=🇺🇲=

_I am an American fighting in the forces which guard my country and way of life. I am prepared to give my life in their defense._

Cas's brain felt like it'd been put in one of those paint shakers from Home Depot, and his heart was beating sickeningly fast. This was familiar. Gross, but familiar. When looking down, he tried following the path of his beloved A-10 Warthog from which he'd ejected, but lost sight of it when landing to the northwest of a lake. He was pretty sure it landed on the other side, but when it did, the sound was that of a thunderbolt from Thor's hammer. 

His death grip on the survival bag tethered to his seat never loosened, fear of a malfunction resulting in it ripping off caused him to clutch its strap so hard his nails were embedded in his palm. The second his feet hit dirt, he clipped off his chute with his non-bloody hand and dragged it into the nearest heavily wooded area. Mentally, he began repeating to himself _survive, evade, resist, escape_. Those were words in the acronym S.E.R.E, from the military survival training program which every pilot must undergo.

Cas quickly covered his face in dirt and pawed at his flight suit, verifying both his knife and service piece hadn't fallen out. The various pockets and zippers contained what he and every other pilot could carry for survival, if for some reason the bag didn't make it when forced to land behind enemy lines. He remembered protocol dictated radio silence until he could reach an area safe enough to communicate beyond Morse code.

He suddenly heard the sounds of approach and hid in the nearby brush. His heart was thundering, threatening to burst from his chest. The company was hostile and fired multiple times at his parachute and the surrounding area. He could hear the ricochet of bullets and shouting of enemy combatants, it seemed to go on for hours. They were trying to flush him out, but somehow he managed to evade their detection. Thanks to his S.E.R.E training, he knew he could still die, but at least was armed with the tools and knowledge to greatly increase his chances of survival. 

He was hot, bugs were crawling in his hair and down his flight suit, and he had to piss so bad his back teeth were floating. But there was no way in Hades he was moving while the hostiles were still around, and their silence meant nothing in regards to them having moved on. Cas spent hours laying on the ground, camouflaged to the best of his ability, unmoving, yet dying to scream. Run. Flick away all the bugs and who-the-fuck-knew-what-else that was crawling on him.

When he was certain his bladder would rupture, leading to imminent death, he carefully raised his head. Castiel scanned his environment as best he could for signs of enemies camouflaged nearby. Eventually he was able to lift his body to a sitting position, but continued to be ever vigilant, listening and watching for threats. Slowly, he crept towards a nearby tree for a piss. 

More than anything, he wanted to at least communicate his status and begin shredding pieces of his nylon chute for a shelter he knew he'd need if he made it to nightfall. Instead, he reluctantly resumed his position by the shrubs, checked his watch, and waited.

Castiel's heart ached for Inias and Dean. He knew beyond a doubt they were beside themselves, just as he'd be if it were one of them in his place. His certainty of that fact in and of itself brought a small measure of comfort, because how often does one _know_ the degree to which they are loved? The worry and fear felt by a lover in their absence? He counted himself lucky, hoping to have more time with them, but infinitely grateful for the time they'd had. 

It was then he decided to metaphorically dust himself off, putting all thoughts of the men in possession of the two pieces of his unwavering heart safely away during daylight hours, and review every shred of survival training he could recall so as to stay fresh, prepared, and alert. Making it back home would require all the mental and physical strength residing within him, so he may as well start charging his warrior battery now. 

Day 2

_I will never surrender of my own free will._

Cas awakened the next morning before sunrise. He'd patched some nylon scraps from his parachute, and with the help of a few shrubs, had made a decent shelter. Someone had sent him coordinates via Morse code, but only once, so it was fortunate he'd been listening for it. He grabbed the material from his shelter, the rest of the parachute, everything he could carry along with his pack, and began the trek to the instructed location. 

Without knowing where he'd next find water, he made sure to stock up. As he filled as many unlubed condoms with fresh water as he could, he couldn't help remembering the day he returned home after graduating survival training, his little brother Alfie rifling through his survival pack.

_"Holy shit, how many rounds of Fuck or Die do they think you'll be tortured with if you're captured?" fifteen year old Alfie asked in shock, holding up the pack that'd been neatly folded in a pouch._

_Of course Gabriel conveniently heard Alfie's query from the hall and entered Cas's room guffawing. "Oh, Cas wouldn't consider that torture - why do you think he chose Air Force instead of Navy, hm? ‘Cause he knows he wouldn't behave himself around a submarine."_

_Cas shot Gabriel a look of disdain, while Alfie merely tossed their oldest brother a head tilt with a side of confusion._

_Gabriel snorted. "Jeez, Alfie, you're such a fetus sometimes. C'mon.. it's long, hard, and full of seamen?"_

_Alfie laughed a very fifteen year old laugh, snorts and all. Cas tried using a utility belt to snap Gabriel in the nuts, but of course he'd already moved out of the way in anticipation. His brother was just being a shit._

_He facepalmed and said, incredulously, "Riddle me this, bro, if you can't even take a joke, then how on earth do you take dick up the old poop chute?"_

_"Gabe!" Cas was beyond irritated, and Gabriel finally got the hint._

_Putting his hands up in submission, the eldest explained while opening a love glove and blowing to inflate it, "Alright! Alright! But seriously, babyface, what's a rubber supposed to hold?"_

_Making a grossed-out face, Alfie answered, "Bodily fluids."_

_"Right-O," Gabe responded like a cheesy game show host, and booped Alfie in the nose with the banana burka balloon, "fluids being the key word. They don't send you ejecting out of a plane with a fancy water bottle. So if you're stuck in the boonies and find some water, non lubricated rubbers can hold a 'load', in a pinch."_

Gabriel had airquoted himself when placing emphasis on the word “load,” thinking himself hilarious for the pun. 

Cas missed both his brothers so much. He wondered how long it would be before Alfie was told of his current status. 

He trod very carefully, as around two in the morning he'd heard a few choppers; but since he'd heard nothing aside from the one set of coordinates, he stayed put and silent. Gun fire immediately followed and the helicopters ghosted themselves. It was curious, but he couldn't risk revealing himself without having received more viable communication. 

With a few rubbers filled, he turned northwest and remained alert. It was slow going; there was so much loose brush lying around that he had to go pretty far out of the way to step in clear areas, otherwise he may as well have been a walking, broadcasting Rice Krispies cereal bowl. Cas became overly skittish because of it, and some five hours later almost missed another radio transmission. It wasn't really in code, but after hearing it a few times, the pattern was absolutely recognizable...and American. 

Someone was clicking a few chorus bars of the classic _Working in a Coal Mine_ by Lee Dorsey, and repeatedly stopped when the lyrics reached, _"Five o'clock in the mornin’.'"_

Cas repeated the clicking lyrics to acknowledge he was clueing in on the non-conventional communication method. The thrill of possibility running through him almost brought tears to his eyes. Was this person telling him to meet him at that specific time? Or were they conveying their position was in the vicinity of his 5 o'clock? 

He was obviously being watched; if it was the enemy attempting to flush him out then they knew he was alone, and would've pounced long before now. Thinking on how he could request clarification, he remembered the Stones song _Time is on My Side_ and _The Devil Went Down to Georgia_ by Charlie Daniels. He clicked the recognizable bars two times each.

An extremely distinct _Born on the Bayou_ , by C.C.R. clicked back repetitively. Cas hated to presume, but almost interpreted the discrete communication as humorous or jovial. Whomever this was, they had outstanding taste in music...in Cas's personal opinion.

He heard yet another pattern of clicks, different from the rest. It took a few rounds of his mystery companion clicking, but eventually he worked out King Harvest's _Dancing in the Moonlight_ , and repeated it back in confirmation. Once again, his emotions washed over him. It didn't matter which branch they served in, Cas clung to the fact that a brother, or possibly even a sister, was following him at his 5 o'clock, and they'd reveal themselves sometime after nightfall. It was a comfort of which he was currently in dire need. 

After making his shelter before dark, he quietly waited. His watch showed 23:13 when the pattern of _Born on the Bayou_ started up again, immediately followed by the Five o'clock lyrics. Cas cautiously exited his shelter. Enemy or friendly, his mixed emotions were raw and ready to burst out of him like a confetti parade. The night was made clear by the moon's exceptionally luminous beams casting through the arboreal landscape. He couldn't remember the last time he saw a moon so bright, and viewed it as a fortuitous sign. 

When turning to his five, his eyes fell upon the form of a soldier armed and heavily burdened with gear. The stranger turned, putting his shoulder in the path of a moonbeam, displaying a patch with stars and stripes. Despite his helmet, the bountiful relief shining from his pale blue eyes was striking, and so _very genuine._

"Evenin'," the man greeted while daring a small smile and scratching his beard, "might you be Captain Novak?" 

Something about the mild timbre of his voice, and its hint of Cajun, immediately put Cas at ease. He happily confirmed, "That'd be me. With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

"Sergeant Benjamin Lafitte, Marines. Awful good, finding you with a pulse," he informed, disentangling an arm and extending it in offer. 

Cas noted Benny's firm hand shake. One could gather plenty from how a man greeted you. Benny's grip wasn't a cocky challenge, nor did it convey excessive authority. It said with warm confidence, " _I've got you, brother."_

"I aim to please," Cas grinned. A giddiness spread through him while in Benny's presence and he couldn't help hearing, from somewhere in farthest recesses of his mind, Linda Rondstat's _Blue Bayou._

He kept that on lockdown, of course. _But damn_ was it nice to meet this guy. "I heard something big try to land last night, wasn't sure if it was you, but when shots were fired it sounded more like a touch and go exercise."

"You heard right. They had twenty to offload, only five of us jumped before they were taking fire and had to pull out," Benny informed. 

"Where are the other four?" Cas wondered aloud.

"They're out there. We didn't have precise coordinates of where you were. But the recovery zone is northwest. Our Commander reported you confirming your status and reception of the recovery coordinates. With five of us fanned out, it's only a matter of time before _'a body catches a body walking in the rye',_ if ya catch my drift."

"Doesn't sound safe."

"They oughta be, I trained 'em. My people will hold the line and get us home. Gotta say though, sure picked a hot spot for retrieval. You're the go big or go home type, huh?"

"I suppose. You?"

"Prefer my feet on terra firma. Or in a boat. Truth be told, I'd rather be fishin'." Benny’s eyes twinkled with mischief in the moonlight. 

=🇺🇲=

"Here's what we know," Bobby said, his arms crossed while addressing Inias and Dean in the debriefing room, two days in. "He used Morse to confirm he was alive two days ago. He was given extraction coordinates, then instruction for radio silence until given updates. No word since."

"Lee and Ash said the area's damn near impenetrable now," Inias offered in hopes it would prompt Bobby into giving them a little more. 

"Lee and Ash need to shut their cakeholes," came the irritated response, "Maybe if you'd get some shut eye instead of pestering for intel _I_ promised to share, you wouldn't look like a nuked shit pie your wingman peeled off the floor. You're going back up at noon, so I suggest getting some beauty rest, _princess._ "

Dean and Inias stood and saluted as he left, then slumped their way to their rooms. Inias went in his room and Dean in his. There was no knock at his door later on. Part of him felt beyond empty, the rest was glad Inias was trying to get some sleep. But he couldn't. Cas was out there, probably running on zero sleep if he hadn't been captured yet. Setting his alarm in time to climb back in his plane at noon, he rolled over and stared at the wall. 

When the alarm went off, he still hadn't slept a wink. Like an automaton, he dressed himself and walked into the hall. Dean caught up to Inias in the elevator, their hands linked together simultaneously in the silence, screaming in their tiny space. He could feel Inias' gaze on his hollow face, but lacked all desire to speak. Inias always afforded him time for processing, and listened intently when words finally came.

Singer had them running exercises between bases on the mainland, and far away from the danger zone. The last straw came at 1400 when Dean didn't hear ACT tell him to stand by while another jet came in and nearly collided with it. Singer was livid and sent him to quarters, grounding him until the infirmary verified stable vitals. 

He hit the showers, then his rack while Inias had dinner. After his meal, Inias came in to check on him, bearing a gift. In his hands was a bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label, cups, and a cassette tape which he promptly popped in the petite player on the table between Dean's bed and Castiel's. 

Dean was already in his boxer briefs on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling with dead, red rimmed eyes. Inias stripped completely, then peeled Dean's underwear off. Handing him a cup, he slid in next to him and snuggled in close. 

"Drink the entire cup, Dean." 

Although his eyes watered, he threw back the cup’s entire contents, which to his best guess was at least four fingers. Inias languidly kissed him, maintaining a gentle pace not intended to rile their hormones, but instead offer deep comfort. Dean felt himself relaxing into his affection as the cassette player serenaded them with Brooks & Dunn.

_"So if you lose your one and only_

_There's always room here for the lonely_

_Watch your broken dreams_

_dancing in and out the beams_

_Of a neon moon."_

Softly pressing his lips to Dean's forehead, Inias assured him, "You don't want him to be alone in his ordeal, but no amount of self-inflicted misery will in any way alleviate Cas's own suffering, such as it is."

Dean moved a little, resting his head on Inias' arm; he listened.

"You're preparing for the worst possible scenario; I am too. But what if we get him back in fair shape, just needing rest or T.L.C.? You can't do that if you're dead or sick from exhaustion. We know he deserves so much better than that."

Dean considered this further. What if they were lucky enough to get him back, but in need of long term physical or mental care? Cas would be firing on all cylinders for them, he needed the same in return. 

"He made it through S.E.R.E. on his first try. Cas _knows_ what to do. But I can't handle the idea of him thinking he's alone," Dean finally shared.

"He _is_ alone Dean, until search and rescue gets him. But he's always focused and mission-driven. This is just another mission to complete."

He sat up, glaring at Inias with burning anguish. "That's not- I can't handle him thinking he's not on our minds every waking second."

Inias held his face and brushed his cheek with his lips. Leisurely, he feathered whispers and affections down his neck and chest. "He knows each of us better than you think.” 

Dean loved where this was going, until he felt a stab of guilt for getting some while Cas was fending for himself. 

Inias must have surmised Dean's silent protests. "Let's be our best for him."

The wet heat of Inias' mouth then quelled any further objections he may have had. Inias had a breathtaking talent for making extremely convincing points while sucking him down. Dean was unbelievably tired, but all the sleep deprivation in the world couldn't diminish his giving nature and inclination to reciprocate. He suddenly remembered the last time sex was on the menu and promising to make it up to him. 

Running his fingers through his hair, Dean got his attention. "I want some too."

They were accustomed to moving around in the cramped spaces. Without even breaking contact, Inias turned and flipped onto Dean, giving him exactly what he was after. It felt grounding and calming during such a time so fraught with worry and tension. Their bodies were songs each knew so well, Dean relished his ability to tune his lovers perfectly and have them singing in satisfaction.

All of them had ravenous drives, so a few days without getting some in one way or another was rare. It also meant they wouldn't last very long, but that was okay. Dean finally felt he'd be in a head and heart space to doze off, as soon as he _got off_.

Maybe it was the fatigue, lack of sleep and food, in combination with a quickly downed nip of booze, but he was getting real handsy. He prided himself on his talented tongue, and usually had his guys coming before hands were even needed. But Dean was quite content with one palm full of ass and another wrapped around a thick cock, stroking Inias into a frenzy. Inias was trying to be careful, but sometimes careful went out the proverbial window when under T.L.C. by a lover well versed in _you._

Dean skillfully tugged at his length, gently twisting with a tad more pressure when reaching the tip of his purple cock. Swiping his palm over the head, the copious amount of precum slicked and coated his shaft on the downward stroke. He couldn’t resist cupping and playing with the delicate weights, swelling so nicely. Lifting his head, Dean was able to suck Inias' engorged head while working the rest of his cock with his hand. He didn't mind when Inias's hips cautiously began pumping his cock further down his throat. 

To Dean, losing himself in these precious trysts, the giving was always as blissful as the getting. He loved Inias with everything he had and knew beyond doubt, his love was reciprocated in equal measure. Within minutes, Inias was seizing and trembling as his orgasm rocketed through him. Dean hummed in satisfaction while the fruits of his labor surged down his throat. He happily continued milking him through the aftershocks while his own release was fast approaching. 

Inias had no gag reflex and frequently encouraged Dean to indulge himself in whatever pace and thrust suited him best. Taking that to heart, he reveled in the feeling of languidly sliding himself down his lover's throat, which had the delightful ability to constrict oh so pleasantly around the head of his cock. His muscles were already tightening in his stomach and in another two thrusts he came hard in muted silence. 

And yet his body said everything his voice did not. His shaking thighs were calmed with firm hands administering light massage. The throbbing and twitching of his overly sensitive dick soothed by an abundance of sweet, attentive kisses. When they'd both fully stilled, Inias righted himself and pulled Dean into his side, cradling his head.

The last thing he heard when finally drifting off to sleep was Inias' whisper in his ear, "He's not alone when we're thinking about him, when our hearts are with him. And we'll love him that much more when he comes home."

  
  


Day 3

_If I am captured, I will continue to resist by all means available._

"The missile hit the wing joint connected to the fuselage; it's a weak spot they're trying to fix, but mine hadn't been in the circuit yet," Cas quietly explained the following morning as they carefully continued on their journey. 

"Heard the Warthogs can take a fair beating. Ugly as sin though. No offense," Benny rested a hand on Cas's shoulder. 

Cas had dealt with the unfortunate observation for years. "Call it ugly, so long as you never call it useless or obsolete. Like a real warthog, it has thick skin and will hunt you down like a relentless demon even on as little as one engine, half the tail, one elevator, and half a wing missing. Happened in Desert Storm. When stuck like we are now, its gun can be the most beautiful sound you'll ever hear." 

"Don't recall having heard it, but I aim to one day. Sounds like a tough beast, suppose their pilots are too," Benny assessed with gleam in his eye. 

Cas could feel himself glowing from the statement, and proudly filled Benny in on his besties. "Beast is my best friend's callsign. I was flying with him and my other best friend when hit. We call him that because he's so soft spoken, but put him in a cockpit and he becomes the Hulk."

"Huh, funny how that happens," Benny paused to fish out some water, offering some to Cas, and continued after a few guzzles, "and your other friend?"

Cas smiled sweetly to himself and answered, "Avenger. Dean's a huge Captain America and Marvel fan."

"They sound like good people. What's your callsign?"

"Fairchild. The original A-10 was manufactured by Fairchild Republic in 1977. I've been in love with the Thunderbolts I and II my entire life. Dean and Inias are everything-" he had to reel himself back in fast, " the bestest friends I could ever ask for."

Benny spent the rest of the day distracting Cas, kept him talking about whatever sparked his joy, which were his plane and best friends. Cas just hoped he wasn't boring the Hell out of the guy who'd landed in proverbial Hades to rescue him. 

=🇺🇲=

"What d'ya mean abnormal communications?" Dean demanded.

Singer elucidated, "Intel picked up some strange code or something in the area Cas landed in. We know the Marines dropped only a quarter of the soldiers they'd intended before having to pull up and get the Hell outta Dodge. Might be some of them 'chatting' in a code we aren't familiar with. But someone swore there were clicks patterning a song."

"Which song?" Inias asked.

"American?" chimed Dean.

Bobby rolled his eyes in reluctance to even respond. After huffing and puffing a few moments, he said, "Someone _thought_ they heard radio clicks to _The Devil Went Down to Georgia_ but that's _heresay only_ , you got me?"

Trying to curb his enthusiasm, Dean simply said, "Yessir."

Once Bobby left the room, the two turned to each other and blew out the air they'd been holding in. 

"Do you think-"

"I don't know"

"He loves-"

"that song"

"It’s one of-

"His favorites."

Both fired back and forth like that for a little while, so eager for the tiniest drop of hope. Each had been on pins and needles all day long for information. 

"He's got people on the ground looking for him," Dean whispered. 

Inias finished Dean's sentiment. "One way or another, our Cas is coming home."

=🇺🇲=

Day 4

_I will make no oral or written statements disloyal to my country and its allies or harmful to their cause._

"I make the finest gumbo you'll ever slide down that gullet," Benny romanticized about his culinary repertoire.

"Never been that far south, but I hear the cuisine is out of this world. You make it spicy?" Cas asked, hoping Benny would be willing to tone it down a bit for his taste buds..if he ever did make it down 'yonder.'

"Can, but I don't care for drowning out the flavor of okra and filé seasoning with too much cayenne. You can always add more later if need be."

Cas assured, "I don't care for excessively spicy foods. A pinch to taste is plenty for me."

He'd managed to flip the conversation onto Benny in the early hours of the following morning and there it'd stayed. They'd been steadily on the move since sun up. Once in a while the reports of rifles would echo in the distance. Benny kept them at a swift pace, crossing the rugged terrain with an M-16 slung across his torso. It'd become a steep incline, following the craggy peaks overlooking a picturesque view. It could've been a stunning National Park Cas saw himself revisiting, but for the extremists still roaming the area.

When the sun had begun to set, the gunfire had increased. Cas noticed Benny pause here and there, as if unsure which way to go based on the direction of fire exchanges. He had his GPS but appeared a tad nervous.

"Lose your way?" 

He chuckled, but tension simmered just below the surface. "The path ain't the problem. How it's being repaved, _is._ "

"Sorry?"

"You been listening to the day's racket?"

"I've heard it just like you."

"Hearing and listening are two different things. Pot at the end of our rainbow's northwest in Kuka."

"And?"

"With every ammo report we've veered slightly, turned farther west. It's no accid-"

Something whizzed through the air, taking off a small portion of Benny's ear, and ricocheted off the nearby rocks. Both ran like hell in zig zag patterns until finding a few trees to hide behind, which lasted all of eight seconds before they were running again, helter skelter through the terrain. 

Cas yelled, "Benny!" as something explosively exited his knee cap and he went down. 

As he looked up for Benny he saw the butt of a rifle from behind a tree violently jut out, hitting Benny in his right temple. He fought to stay conscious, taking swings at his assailant, but Cas watched in horror as he fell and didn't move. Some kind of cloth was thrown over their heads and even with his knee blown out by a bullet, someone kicked him there hard, screaming to get up and walk. 

It took a few tries to get up, the pain was searing and Cas experienced shooting stars in his vision. He could hear Benny being dragged as someone smacked the back of his head and shoved him forward. He didn't know how he was able to walk; stumbling, he fell often and constantly had to be hauled back to his feet. 

Foisted in the back of a van, Cas prompted Benny to speak multiple times. Yet after taking several punches to the face, he figured Benny was still out and therefore shut his trap. By his estimation, the vehicle was heading south, southwest, and their journey only took eight to ten minutes. 

His knee gave out the second he'd been dragged out of the van and kicked to walk forward. Without being able to see, he was unable to tell if the round which went through the back of his knee and exited out his knee cap had hit anything major. His heart was racing, he had trouble breathing with the damn sack over his head, and he fell when taking his first step. His captors were exceedingly irritated by his seeming inability to just "walk it off" and screamed obscenities in his ear. Hearing a thud to his right, he guessed Benny had been rolled out of the van, and was now getting hauled off.

Kicked once more to move, he did his best without instruction on which direction _to_ move. The pain in his knee was nothing compared with what happened after stepping in the wrong direction. Someone forcefully course corrected him and Cas was certain both his tibia and ligaments were toast. The feel of the snap and splinter resulted in him puking in the head covering and down his flight suit. Someone cursed and gave orders for him to be carried. 

Paces were counted, right and left turns were logged into his memory bank, despite the pain-induced fog. The acoustics of the building they'd entered lended to his assumption it was an aged jail of sorts. Iron bars were opened and he heard the thud of Benny hitting the ground. Cas's head covering was then removed and before he could put his hands out to brace the fall, someone shoved him onto the filthy concrete floor, _hard_. Boy, would he be feeling that forehead goose egg in the morning.

Cas crawled over to Benny's still form as fast as he could and checked his vitals. He was breathing, but had a nasty gash on the side of his right temple. While assessing the pitch black room to the best of his ability, a blaring sound accosted his ears over speakers installed in the space, the constant sound of river barge horns deafening him. His head ached from the spill he'd just taken. And his knee throbbed and stung like the devil. 

Backing up against the wall, he pulled Benny to an upright sitting position beside him to his left. With no idea how long he'd have to endure the hideous noise, Cas began to recall more of his training. He conjured three folders in his mind and labeled them. Folder A was a list of information he'd willingly give up. Folder B contained information he'd spill only if his life depended on it. The third was locked away before his mind could barely envision the letter C, as they were things for which he was willing to die protecting.

Sometime around three am, Benny stirred. Cas heard him groan and barf. Fortunately his head was turned the other direction; it was to be expected with such a head injury. Waking up with such a painful neverending river barge horn blaring, Cas was unsure if his ears were bleeding. Nevertheless, he held Benny's arm so he knew he was right beside him in this startling pitch black environment. 

Hours passed, the barge recording hadn't let up. Benny had been in and out of consciousness and continued to vomit. Clearly he'd sustained a vicious concussion, Cas hoped it was nothing worse. At some point a pair of guards entered their cell and dragged them from the room and down the hall to another room where the volume was significantly reduced and Cas could hear himself think. They sat in two chairs, side by side for a time, just waiting; for what was unclear. Then a few men came in and without a word, grabbed Benny and dragged him out of the room. 

Cas's stomach was a pool of acid working to dissolve itself. His heart pounded erratically, and if the damn horns weren't turned off, he was certain a mental breakdown was on its way. But fortunately this too had been included in the S.E.R.E. package. When the intensity of the program’s authenticity had come under fire after a few weak men filed reports of extreme abuse, the program director maintained their stance. Trainees cannot be adequately prepared to survive some of the worst situations imaginable without having experienced as much of it as possible within certain medical limitations. 

Cas was terrified for Benny. He didn't know if he'd been dragged off to be shot or worse, but nearly an hour passed before they dragged him back in, blue in color, bleeding from the mouth, and practically coughing up a lung. Waterboarding was clear, but Cas was extremely concerned by his palor and difficulty regulating his respirations. He'd sustained further injury but Cas couldn’t determine what.

A tall, waif of a man wearing a uniform came in and stared at Cas with daggers in his eyes. 

"Your comrade’s name, position."

Cas remained silent. 

" _Your comrade’s name and position_."

He heard an astonishing chuckle from Benny when the man's voice intensified, promising future unpleasantness if his cooperation wasn't given. 

"Cas..sing me the song Mr. Piano man…".

Benny had lost his marbles, Cas was sure; until he felt the tap of Benny’s boot against his left foot. He winced from the pain of contact but turned his head towards him. 

"Piano man...mmmm…private...ben.." Benny mumbled. 

Benny's name patch read, "B. Lafitte." Piano Man, Joel...Private B...Benjamin. Billy Joel, Alias.

"William Lafitte, United States Marines," Cas provided the man. Benny’s last name was written on his fatigues with Marines right after, so it wasn’t like there was any secrecy to it.

A guard punched him in the face, and he was certain his left orbital was fractured. "B! B-b-b no Whu Whu. Comrade’s Name!" 

"William is short for Billy you dumbfucks! Short!" Cas gestured with his hands, closing the distance between palms. 

"Dinnn't say you spoke Serbian," Benny whistled and not in a good way.

"I speak Russian. They're both part of the Slavic language family. I recognize enough to get by."

The man in charge slammed a paper and pencil in front of him and yelled. "You! Name! Position!"

Cas wrote his name, preceded by 'Pilot' and followed by United States Air Force.

"You fly which plane?"

"A-10 Thunderbolt Warthog."

"He flies too?"

"Niet," Cas left no room to misinterpret that.

These were all facts easily verified by a few phone calls and had been stashed in his Folder A.

"Base?"

"Rammstein, Deutschland." It was obviously farther North than Aviano, but one of Europe's largest bases and planes of every size flew in and out everyday. 

The man turned the paper over and slammed his hand down on top. "Diagram, draw for me now."

Cas inwardly smiled while presenting the picture of compliance. This he pulled from Folder B and unbeknownst to them, proceeded to draw them a map of his college campus with a few recognizable air base buildings and runway from his first station at Mather AFB in California. 

Shouting was heard from the halls, and the man hollered for someone to come in and brief him on the situation.

"What's cooking out in the kitchen back there," Benny wheezed.

"This facility is being painted by non-Serbian tech. The argument is if they're being painted for extraction, annihilation, or both.”

Benny huffed in feigned humor, "Don't bode well for these folks either way. Couldn't happen to a more hospitable bunch."

"Are they yours?"

"Told you, I trained 'em."

Patting his shoulder gingerly, Cas said, "That you did. You've done well."

Both sat back in their chairs, awaiting their fate, whatever it might be. Benny had lost consciousness again. Somehow Cas couldn't bear the thought of him leaving this world just yet, so he held his hand and put his arm around the back of his neck to prevent him from getting severe muscle strain if they were still going to be here a long time. 

The frantic yelling in Serbian increased. Heavy boots hurriedly stomped in the halls and nearby gunfire chipped away at the aged exterior of whatever facility they were being kept. Arms grabbed at their clothes and voices pleaded with them to stand. Cas's head hurt so badly he could only look back on this part in blurry flashes. He and Benny were surrounded by hands gripping them tight and rushing them down the halls in which they'd been dragged. 

When brought outside, a cool breeze kissed Cas's face. The brilliant moon was high, its light was a gift that shone down on the righteous path towards freedom and home. He grew extremely concerned about Benny; the gentle soul had yelped and vomited again when lifted from his chair. 

"He needs medical attention quickly, I suspect internal injuries."

"Birds are in the air, Sir, we've gotta clear this base and keep moving west for a little longer," urged a man helping Cas into the treeline away from their prison. 

Noticing Benny coming back around, he reached once again for his hand. Not long after, both were set down near a field. Gunfire had lit up the quiet night, or early morning. 

"Hey, Benny. Stick with me, alright? Your team did great. We're out," Cas praised, and held Benny's face. In the moonlight it looked far too grey, and he still had blood oozing from his mouth.

Despite his condition, Benny managed a smile. "We're going home, brother."

Just then a familiar sound broke through a chaos of darkness. Popopopopopop! Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrttt!!!

"Tell me what's going on, sounds awful strange," Benny noted.

Cas's head hung low against Benny's chest, he couldn't speak right away, or the well of emotions finally overflowing would betray him. The pattern repeated itself two more times before he answered, still not completely hiding his trembling voice. 

"That's the sound of home, Benny. Those are Warthogs. That place we were in is getting wiped out of existence real soon."

"Both sounds are your plane?" he coughed

Popopopopopopop! "Those are the bullets hitting targets..now wait for it," Cas instructed Benny. 

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrtttt! "That's the Gatling firing the bullets. It's so fast you hear the guns report after the target's been hit.” 

"You think it’s Inias and Dean?" Benny wondered, now struggling even more to steady his respiratory rate.

Cas closed his eyes and listened very, very carefully to several sounds ranging from the engines which told him of each A-10's position in relation to the others. The variety of thrust employed and elevation adjustments. Only pilots knew every sound their planes made so well. 

"No, they'll have been taken off missions in this area for a while, after what they saw...with me. Plus, I know every second of every move they make. How Dean tends to increase altitude after firing his missiles because he takes his plane lower than us, to its absolute limit before pulling up. I know Inias, his crazy spin maneuvers are legendary among Hog pilots because they're incredibly tight. They way he closes distance with his targets and won't back off until the last second because he's a stubborn sonuvabitch."

Maybe it was the way he spoke of them with such reverence, maybe it was something else picked up on he wasn't aware of. Benny quietly asked him while his team had moved more than a few paces away for the first time since retrieval, "You, uh...you and one of them good 'friends with Franky’?"

Cas froze, hearing the code used in this environment had caught him off guard. Odd question to ask given their immediate situation. Something about Benny, his gentle engagement in every conversation, the fierce protector vibe he gave off that put Cas at such ease in his presence told him the guy was asking with genuinely good intent. And yet, one never knew.

This was the 1990s for Christ's sake. It'd gone from "Dishonorable Discharge upon discovery of homosexuality in the U.S. military, to a little game officially called 'Don't ask...Don't tell." As if that had _any_ of them relaxing one iota. The military decided it was okay to play shadow games over a soldier's sexuality. You could die honorably for your country, but not if you were a 'homo.'

Over here, people were being murdered and dumped in mass graves for their family heritage. What God they believed in. So help the sorry sonuvabitch capable of blasting racist, ethnic cleansing assholes to hell with an AR-15, but took it up the ass when it came to who they loved. According to the moral code of the U.S. military, that right there somehow negated the value of your willingness to die saving a child of Islamic faith in a country majority of Christians. 

Still dithering over how to respond, Benny pressed a hand on his chest. "You can tell me. Way things are lookin', I'm taking it to my grave soon anyhow."

The blood drained from Cas’s face and left a chill down his spine. "No, Benny... please just hang on a while longer."

"S'alright, fat lady ain't sung yet. But she's fixin' to." The kindness in Benny's eyes and soft expression broke Cas's heart. 

He collected himself and gave him the respect of an honest, confident answer. "Both. The three of us are... yeah."

Benny's eyebrows popped in surprise, yet to his astonishment, Cas found zero judgment. "I'll be. Cas, having the love of one soul is mighty fine. But two? That's a powerful thing, indeed. Good to hear. Hope to meet 'em someday."

"I'd like that. They'll definitely want to meet you."

An explosion rocked the earth beneath them, Cas turned and quickly shielded Benny's eyes and face from any debris by covering him with a hug. The furious sound of destruction was followed by a comforting _thwock thwock thwock thwock_ and a rush of wind. "I've got you Benny. C'mon, our ride is here." 

He glanced around at the few members of Benny's team, now engaged in heavy gunfire, with hostiles in the treeline. It was now or never; Cas was getting Benny on that Osprey or he would die trying. Pushing through the blinding pain, he hoisted Benny up, wrapping the man's arm around his shoulder, and dragged them both inch by inch towards the massive transport. 

The moon was so big, despite the month of June; it looked like a harvest supermoon on steroids. Bullets pelted the ground they both were stumbling on. Secondary explosions sent heat waves rolling behind them. The Osprey awaited several yards away and Cas had no idea if the soldiers spilling out could even see them. Then Benny tripped and both went down. 

There wasn't time to attempt standing up again. Cas grasped at his pockets with his left hand, retrieving a single aluminum tube. Unscrewing the bottom cap of the hand-held illumination flare, he yelled at Benny to turn his head, and pulled the string which launched the rocket motor into the air.

Within minutes, strong hands were carrying them, and a wall of soldiers moving alongside them shielded from attack. Shouting came from all around. Benny was swallowed by a group of medics and Cas, who was barely hanging on to consciousness, thought he saw Benny's men running like hell, then jumping aboard. The gargantuan helicopter tilted too far to one side, bearing the weight of nearly thirty men while attempting lift off at lightning speed. The area had become a firefight of incendiaries. 

The last thing he remembered hearing before everything went dark was, "Our feet are wet. We need a medical crew on deck for both Sargeant Lafitte and Captain Novak right away, Sir. ETA five minutes."

=🇺🇲=

Day 5

_I will never forget I am an American fighting for freedom, responsible for my actions and dedicated to the principles which made my country free._

Dean wasn't sure of the time when he was jarred awake by an alert from his pager. He just automatically knew it would involve draggin’ his ass outta bed, and until the sleep fog cleared, he didn't wanna move from the naked warmth of the man he loved. Yet, duty called. 

Fumbling through the dark for this sock and that undershirt, he waited for the expected pager alert for Inias, which often followed soon after. Confusion and curiosity set in when only Inias's light snores filled the room. Dean quietly slipped out into the hall and checked his watch while en route to the wardroom. It was 05:02 am; his regular flight exercises didn't start until 07:30am. 

His heart experienced a tight squeezing sensation when realizing it could be about Cas. Bolting into the officers station, someone motioned him in and handed him the phone. "Where's Singer?"

"In a meeting," came the reply.

He sleepily spoke into the phone. "Captain Winchester speaking."

"Dean! H-how are you doing?"

The sound of Sammy's voice was a shot of muscle relaxer into his bloodstream. "It's so good to hear your voice, man. Uh, I'm alright. Been tough."

Once Sam started, his mouth went a mile a minute in excitement. "Took me a few days to get permission for the call but I've got news. Cas is here! He's okay! Gonna need a buttload of surgery. Some stuff happened over there, but surgery and rest will do him good. I wanted to call right away, but at least now I'm calling with solid info."

Dean dropped to the floor, holding the phone with his shoulder and covering his face. It took everything he had not to burst into tears of gratitude and joy. "Sammy, that's real good news. Have you seen him yet?"

"No, I only talked to one of the Marines on search and rescue. They lost a few getting him back. Two are still in surgery, they were hurt pretty bad. But I will talk to him as soon as I can. Dean, we got the MiG. Gabe took him out and there was no way in Hell he survived."

"I knew you guys would. How's Gabe holding up? And Adam?" It was easier for Dean to concentrate on the others; kept him from losing his cool. 

"Adam's fine. Gabe's been a wreck, just like you and Inias, I assume. He's on the med deck, waiting for updates. I... my time’s almost up, but I had to check up on you guys and give you the news."

"I'm glad you did, thanks Sam. Miss you, brother. Slap Adam for me, would ya?"

"Sure thing. Take care, Dean."

"You too."

He took a moment to clear his throat, stand up, and hand the phone back. Walking back to his room, Dean nearly combusted keeping himself on lockdown so as to avoid an attention-grabbing emotional outburst. So when he blasted through the door to find Inias sitting on the side of the bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes, he shut the door and lost it. 

Dean sat beside him and relayed everything Sam had said. Inias held him tight and cried with joy. They held each other in silence for a long time. When their alarms went off at 7:30, both were tired, but their bodies moved about with renewed life and spirit. Inias found a note had been slipped under the door, from Bobby. 

_Pulled some strings. Got you boys clearance for three hours on the Kearsarge tomorrow beginning at 06:00. Get yer beauty sleep princesses._

They were gonna see Cas? Dean and Inias were over the moon, and their day moved more quickly than either could've imagined. Both were up by 04:00 the next morning for an early flight into the Adriatic. 

When they landed, Sam brought them to the infirmary where Gabriel and Cas were standing vigil over Benny. Cas was in a wheelchair beside his bed, but gave Dean and Inias the biggest, most relieved smile. Each silently hugged him. Gabriel also gave a warm greeting.

"I missed you both so much," Cas professed.

"How are you feeling? This the guy that saved you?" Inias's words tumbled out.

Cas nodded. "Benny has a severe concussion, two broken ribs which punctured his lung, and a compound fracture of his collarbone. He lost a few men and almost died himself."

Dean let that digest, and couldn't help feel a sense of awe and wonder for the man. What he did for Cas was in his job description, yet plenty of people just do their job and are in no way heroes. This guy was. Benny lay there, unconscious, in partial traction, with a chest tube draining blood from his lungs. And despite the current swelling and discoloration of his face, there was a profound kindness there, which Dean felt exceptionally drawn to. 

"When he's more stable, they'll transfer him to Aviano and then home for recovery, " Cas explained in a reverent tone, which Dean could infer that the two had shared quite the experience over the last few days. He hoped to learn of it in more detail than their current allotted time would allow.

"And you?" Inias softly prompted, brushing a few strands of Cas's hair from his eyes, "Have they given you a prognosis and recovery plan?"

Dean braced for the news, which would undoubtedly entail another uncomfortable separation in the near future. Yet not nearly as devastating as it could've been, thanks to this Marine and his brave team. 

Cas wistfully delivered, "I'll be back on base tomorrow night, likely. The surgeon patched me up for now, but I'll need further reconstructive surgery. My knee is a mess, looking at months of physical therapy."

Dean's insides threatened to come up. "Did they say how long before you're back?"

"Active? Four to five months until I'm behind a desk. Back in a Hog? Could be up to a year, provided I follow doctor’s orders and work my ass off in therapy."

The heavy, proverbial rocks in Dean’s stomach fought against settling like boulders, accepting how long it would be until a version of normal played a consistent presence in their lives. 

It was not only illegal, but dishonorable, for Cas to mean more than a friend to Dean and Inias. On paper, the three of them were soldiers in the U.S. military, each on their own tours of varying length. None had legal spouses and/or children to support. Therefore, the government didn't care to whom these three soldiers, or six when counting Adam, Gabriel, and Sam, wished they could return. To spend time with. To help with transitional care. 

All called the bizarro bunker in Lebanon, home. But it was more like a frat house, guys always passing each other like ships in the night. All wanted to be home with Cas, but none would turn their backs on their common calling, and none would ever ask that. Dean longed for a time when it was more common to have all three of them together at home, reveling in the blissful normalcy so many took for granted. 

Inias glanced around, making sure nobody was watching them too closely. Dean saw him placing a hand over Cas's heart, asking, "How are _you_?"

As Cas closed his heavy lidded eyes for a moment, Dean could see him suppress the urge to break. "Cas, it's us. We're family. You can let it go."

"I was fine until they put us in the cell. The constant noise..the pitch black..It messed with my senses. And they took Benny away. When they brought him back, he was in such bad shape and I thought I was next. I'd have dealt with it... gonna need some time. And no loud music ever again."

A nurse walked in then and shoo'd out Benny's fan club. Time moved with swift absurdity after that, and all too soon Dean and Inias were saying goodbye. Despite the fact he'd be back on base the following day, both hugged him like it was the last time. 

"Thanks for taking care of my brothers, Gabe," Dean voiced with sincerity and kissed his cheek. 

When they got back to Aviano, Dean and Inias decided to buy Bobby a couple of drinks in appreciation for his string-pulling and overall understanding. Under anyone else's command and they'd not only go several more months without seeing Cas at all, but likely have been given half the updates. 

Once Cas was settled back on base and given much more thorough assessments, it was determined that the majority of reconstruction required on his knee would have to happen stateside. It was with a heavy heart that Dean resumed his flight exercises while Inias gathered their lover's sundries for the voyage home. Yet Dean could see the immense relief which came over Cas when relaying Gabe had phoned to say Benny was awake, doing alright, and asking about the guy flying an ugly winged badass. There was a hint of something, longing maybe, in Cas’s eyes, which Dean recognized and was at peace with. 

In the quietest hours of night before his departure spent at Cas's bedside, all of them quietly wept. Inias had eight months left of deployment and Dean, ten. Inias was inclined to write letters, but didn't hold a grudge against his guys who loved receiving them, but delivered their sentiments by phone. For years they'd lovingly teased him about the exquisite poetry and sonnet-like declarations he carefully tailored and penned to each of them. 

Whenever they'd reunite after extended absences, Dean and Cas returned their fierce affections for him in kind. Words of reverence, trust, and faith tumbled from their lips upon his. Their skillful hands sculpted worship, beauty, and commitment against his body. Their fingers wrote letters of passion, adoration, and bliss against his skin. 

When Cas returned home, it was to the loving care of John and Kate. Dean knew they loved him as a son, and helped in his recovery every bit as much as if he was their own flesh and blood. Monthly updates assured Dean that Cas was indeed in good hands and healing strong. When Benny was transferred to the mainland, Dean and Inias were there to greet him. 

The two weeks he spent with them before traveling back to Louisiana were profound. Benny discretely admitted knowledge of their dynamic and voiced his support. Before leaving, he let slip when it came to love, he was an equal opportunist. Inias declared the Cajun had the heart of a warrior and the soul of a teddy bear. Dean agreed, and confessed he was in serious danger of falling for him. Benny made good on his promise to stay in touch, and Dean's heart fluttered with an old, familiar feeling each time he picked up the phone and dialed that bayou area code. 

Eleven months after that fateful day Cas went down, all four met at Benny’s place for a week of fishing, drinking, and catching up. By week's end Benny belonged to them, mind, body, and soul. 

***

_Friday_

_August 28, 2001_

"With this token I vow," Inias began, placing a leather bracelet on each man to whom he was vowing.

Cas knew he was verbally pacing himself for an emotionally supercharged experience. As were they all.

"To faithfully commit myself to Dean, Inias, and Benjamin. In a union as true as any other of matrimonial sanctity, for the remainder of my days." 

"I vow to be honest and trustworthy," Cas contributed. 

"I promise unconditional love and care," Dean pledged.

"I pledge endless loyalty and support," Benny finished. 

The waves crashing against the rocky shore created the refreshing mist cooling them down during a particularly humid sunset in Louisiana's Vermillion Bay. They'd chosen the location for its beauty, and because after five years of playing passing ships, they wanted something more concrete for themselves. Benny and Inias had just returned from deployment, Dean and Cas just completed eight weeks of test flight programs in Nevada. Time waited for no man.They never needed a piece of paper and they weren't asking for permission. 

"So this is it, done deal?" Benny shyly asked. 

Cas noted a hint of pink painting his cheeks and knew just how happy his Marine was. How happy they all were. 

"Husbands," Dean declared, love brimming in his soft eyes. 

Holding hands and wearing shorts with Tommy Bahama style shirts, they'd easily pass for a small men's church group holding prayer at sunset. All four pulled in for a hug and whispered "I love you's." In this era at least, until society evolved, they'd opted for braided leather bracelets instead of rings, to avoid more direct questioning from well meaning coworkers and superiors. 

The lower the sun dipped in the sky, the more fireflies emerged in their silent, floating dance on their way back to the secluded beach house they'd rented for the occasion. Each marveled at the magic it lended to their incredibly significant evening. Benny had made his famous jambalaya, which Cas had tried and loved, then insisted everyone try. Benny and Dean were the chefs in the family, adoring every opportunity to care for their husbands through comfort food. This is how it would always be. Taking time together whenever they could steal it, whether it was all of them or only some.

In a matter of days, the U.S. would be pitched into heartbreaking chaos and their lives would be forever changed. The longest campaign in modern history would begin against those responsible. Dean and Inias never forgot what almost losing Cas had felt like, nor would they cease to be grateful for the beacon who'd brought him home, forever becoming a beloved member of their small family. No matter where Benny was or who he was rescuing, he continuously listened for the fierce brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrttt! which heralded his angel husbands on the horizon, the siren call of home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The S.E.R.E. Training depicted in this story is very real and so incredibly difficult, only 25% of all participants pass the first time through. Once can EASILY compare it to the Navy Seal program depicted in the movie G.I. Jane. These S.E.R.E. Training programs are specifically designed for every kind of geographic location a pilot could possibly find themselves in. Graduates from multiple programs are few and have the U.S. Military's highest respects. 
> 
> I love me a happy ending, hopefully this satisfies those who have taken the time to read it. Thank you so much! There is one last installment in the next chapter which consists of a happy ending of a different sort...


	10. Southern Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas was exhausted from his flight to Louisiana from Afghanistan. His husbands Dean and Benny were anxiously waiting for him, Inias was still finishing his tour and sorely missed them. It was their anniversary; after months and months away from each other, all they wanted to do was spend the few days they had together cooking, cuddling, and having sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part 3 of "Rescue Me" and the last installment. May I reward you with copius smut? You've got a paragraph of story lube before going in hot, lol. I wasted to no time for prep. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thanks to my beta tfw-cas as always for saving me from myself!
> 
> For Anyrei, whose art will never cease to inspire.

  


Pulling down the narrowly paved road to Benny's, Cas considered leaving his bag in the car. But then he'd have to drag his tired ass back out to retrieve it. Slinging it over his shoulder, he fiddled in his pocket for the house keys, then made his way along the quaintly illuminated foot path. The cozy glow from inside warmed his heart, which quickened its rhythm in anticipation of this reunion. 

As he nudged the front door open and stood in the entryway, his bag tumbled off his shoulder the same time his jaw hit the floor. There on the kitchen table facing him was Dean, on his knees, getting properly filled and fucked by Benny. His head fell back on Benny's shoulder, while being held and kissed, as a generous hand massaged the heavy twin weights between his legs. 

"Happy homecoming to me," he muttered in a low, hungry tone. 

When Benny opened his eyes, they danced with happiness at the sight of Cas. " _Cher_ , you're a most welcome sight. My, how you've been missed."

Out of his mind with the need to come, Dean murmured Cas's name. When Cas abandoned his sundries on the entryway floor, B lining it for them, he paused just out of Dean's reach. Between Dean and Cas, Cas was most definitely the more dominant. Throw Benny in the mix, and his generous imagination was something for which Cas was plenty happy to defer. 

As Benny slowed his hips even further, Dean begged Cas to come closer. 

"You're stunning to see like this, Dean. I love you, so so much," Cas whispered in his ear. 

Cas watched him panting with need, his cock barely moving it was so hard. Precum pearling at the tip leaked down his shaft and drenched the tablecloth beautifully. Cas's mouth suddenly grew parched. 

"I-I've missed you, God Cas, suck my dick, _please_ ? I wanna come so bad.. _please_ , please. G..g-..gawd I'll be good..promise."

Hoo boy, did Cas ever want to do just that. Yet he knew some self restraint in the long run would yield infinitely more satisfying results. Benny slowed to almost a dead stop and Dean fussed in mourning, from the loss of a highly sought building pressure. 

Cas smiled and leaned forward, baiting Dean into doing the same. At the last second he bypassed him, going over his shoulder for a kiss with Benny. A stifled whimper broke through the silence of Cas's welcome back affections. 

"Thought you said you'd be good, Chief. Here you are, whimpering like I've neglected to give anything less than my exceptional brand of.. _southern hospitality,_ " Benny drawled in a deceptively soft voice, before sliding back into him.

Cas dropped his eyes to see Dean's cock darkening with increased need. "Can you behave, Dean?"

"Y-yes."

Cas pulled up a chair, scooted himself to the table, and leaned forward, latching onto the head of that painfully swollen cock tempting him. Indulging himself for a few moments, he sucked on Dean, thoroughly enjoying the quickening forward thrust he was given. All too soon he pulled off, but bestowed a reward for lack of any further fussing with a salacious kiss upon Dean's plump lips.

"Good, because I really want to help you come. Benny bear, _bedroom_."

Cas watched Dean expound serious effort to squelch a groan stemming from the loss of a fuckable, hot mouth, Benny's skilled ball massage, and suddenly no dick filling him up. _Understandable_.

Benny scooped Dean off the table into his strong arms. Cas had seen him at times so desperate to come he'd had trouble walking from the shower in the master bath to the master bed. He was beautiful like this though, nearly out of his mind from need, yet allowing himself to be taken care of and loved.

Cas pulled the bedroom bench away from the foot of the bed and stripped completely. Then he perched on the bench, lazily palming himself, settling in for a good show while Benny plopped Dean on the comforter. With plenty of room beside him, Dean scooted over so Benny could sit, legs dangling comfortably. 

"C'mon now, hop on." Not that Dean appeared to need any convincing when Benny sweetly kissed his cheek. 

In under a second, he was on Benny’s lap, sinking all the way down onto his thick cock, finding the perfect rhythm. Cas was mesmerized as Dean's eyes closed while getting absolutely lost in pleasing himself. 

His own cock had been straining against the starch of his fatigues, but now it was free and very much liking what was going on. When Benny leaned back on his elbows for a better position from which to appreciate how well Dean was using him, Cas seized the opportunity to lean forward and let him slide down his throat. 

Benny moaned. "That's it Dean, get you s'more lovin'."

Each time Dean thrust forward and upward into the heat of Cas's mouth, his ass squeezed, working Benny into a frenzy. One in which the guy went from blissful passivity to enthused participant. 

Finally being with these two and listening to the song of their labored breathing, taking in the way their lean muscles contracted and released in fluid, sensual movements was a feast for his eyes. The taste of their lips, their skin moist from beading perspiration, and the salty tang when contentedly swallowing their surging come was always water for his parched soul. It'd been so long since he'd been with them that he'd probably come twice, maybe even three times that night. 

Cas was already aware how his balls were tightening as he quickened the pace with his hand. Dean's fingers gently ran through his hair, instead of grabbing on like most would when as worked up as him. Everything about Dean's touch conveyed care and devotion, who he was at his core, even in such primal moments as this. Cas pulled off, but cuddled and kissed the tip several times before standing and doing the same with Dean while continuing to pump himself towards orgasm.

"Dean, slow down for a minute. Lay back against Benny."

Benny propped himself back up and Dean, without hesitation, did as he was told, although brutal complaint was all but firing from his eyes like missiles of frustration.

"Benny sit up and hold him still a minute. He's just so gorgeous like this, I wanna come all over him."

Standing between Benny's knees with a hand wrapped around his thickness, Cas shot his load, drenching Dean's stomach, cock, and boys in hot white ropes. The carnal look in Benny's eyes for him had Cas clenching even harder around the plug that'd been in his hole for twelve hours at least. He craved something so much bigger in him, but Dean wasn't going to last much longer anyhow. 

Even if Benny did come in Dean, the night was so very young and if there was one thing from this blessed visit he could be sure of, it was that he'd walk away satisfied, loved, and well fed. 

"Mmmmm save some for me, angel," Benny issued in the gravelly voice Cas recognized as him having entered his 'beg mode'.

Cas nimbly sprang on the bed, momentarily leaving Dean in a subspace-like ecstasy with a generous hand rubbing the come into his ball sac. Ghosting his lips across Benny's he murmured, "As you wish."

He couldn't help the obscene moan escaping him, when sliding his dick into Benny's welcoming mouth. Feeling a cautious push from a hand softly nudging at his plug, Cas glanced down. _Good Gawd_ , why was it every time Benny gave some head he had to look so fucking _pleased_ , as if calmed by Daddy's milk? They'd never skated into those terms but _damn_ , if one had to hazard a guess at a label...

Cas just had every drop siphoned by Benny and he swore he could feel his dick twitching for a second cumming. He bent down, kissing Benny again, lovingly massaging his temples and running his fingers through his hair. 

"Finish our lover boy off," he whispered to Cas with a peck on his cheek. 

Cas smiled, eagerly crawling off the bed back in front of Dean to kiss him with genuine yearning and passion. Dean clung to him when hitting the home stretch. How very blessed he, Benny, and Inias were to have his heart. He was the walking embodiment of love itself, and it showed in everything he did, every second of the day. When lucky enough to be loved by Dean, one felt it in their very bones. 

When wrapping his hand around Dean's length, all it took was a few cum slicked tugs and Cas felt him seize up. He sighed into Cas's mouth, holding onto him while each wave of intense pleasure wracked through his gorgeous body.

"Uhhh," Dean let out in exhaustion, "Cas, welcome home. Love you buddy."

Cas softly laughed, brushing away the sweat dripping down his face. "Aw, I love me too."

All three chuckled as Cas added, "But I love you even more."

Dean dramatically fell to his side on the bed, leaving a prone Benny in need of attention.

Cas took the opportunity to playfully ask, "May I be of assistance?"

With a stunning smile Benny cooed, "You surely may."

With intent to hop right on and ride him into next week, Cas climbed the bed yet again, pausing when Benny shook his head at him. Suddenly Cas was flipped over onto his back and pulled down the bed. Benny yanked out the plug, sliding right in, snuggling on top of him. The hungry rumble in his chest with the attentive way he moved, aware of Cas's recent oversensitivity, melted his heart. 

To be loved by Benny, was to be generously cherished and fiercely protected. The marine almost died rescuing him a few years back in Serbia during the Balkans conflict and neither Cas, Dean, nor Inias, would ever cease to show their gratitude for his heroism and mere existence. 

Cas felt Dean's warm presence beside him and was emotionally overwhelmed. He embraced Benny all the more tightly with his left arm when the guys' movements began gifting a little more thrust. His right reached for Dean, whom he snuggled in more closely as well. When Cas had pushed through his sensitivity, he turned to face Dean who looked downright desperate to kiss him. 

His lips were plump and sweet. Dean was the best kisser in the entire world and made Cas lose himself, completely forgetting the worries and cares of the world. Benny took advantage of his neck craning for Dean, and sunk his teeth right in. 

"Aw fuck," Cas grunted into Dean's mouth, having nearly forgotten Benny's biting kink, but absolutely loving it. His left hand flew into Benny's hair, grasping at the short strands in an attempt to press his retreating mouth back against the raging pulse beneath his skin. Benny kissed the bite away but got Cas's message loud and clear to keep going, _on all accounts._ With his hips now pistoning against Cas's ass, Benny pushed himself up and scooted his knees under his thighs for a deeper angle. 

A sneaky, but lovable hand from Dean now grasped Cas's cock and worked him towards a mindblowing state. Between the two of them, Cas thought he'd explode. But then Dean replaced his hand with his mouth which almost shoved him clear across the sensitivity line. He had to dig deep and concentrate to push through. Benny was huffing and grunting, his face appeared on the precipice of unbelievable bliss.

"That's it, Dean. Suck harder. Oh..uh..God he's so tight. Keep squeezing me like that, angel."

As per usual, Dean did as he was told and seconds later Cas sensed that familiar, delicious coil deep in his stomach.

Benny huffed, "In or on?"

Sometimes, the cum king that Cas was, loved being drenched in it after a few good rounds. But he'd missed Benny so damn much he was all kinds of emotional. " _In."_

"Yes Sir." Benny changed his angle slightly downward, pushing in deeper, grunting as he filled Cas to the brim. 

His cum was surging and pulsing inside at the same time Cas came hard in Dean's mouth. He couldn't control his squirming and twitching while getting a thorough fuck-and-suck, courtesy of two out three beloved husbands. Benny fussed lovingly with Dean's hair while grabbing Cas's hand to hold just for the hell of it. 

"Let's keep that in there a little while longer," he gifted a grin to Cas when putting the plug back in place.

When their breathing calmed, the two idiots dog piled on Cas and assaulted him with cum kisses.They were all exhausted, but deeply happy to be together. After a really long shower with obscene amounts of cuddling and kisses, they enjoyed fantastic bayou cuisine and caught up on each other’s lives. Inias was missed terribly, but it couldn't be helped. 

This was the nature of their careers, and why it was so important they met whenever they could. One day they'd all be together again, working regular jobs, more than likely at some rinky dink municipal airport out in Bumfuck, Nowhere. But until then, this was all they had, and it was enough. 


	11. The Cuddle Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No funny business since they're underage...we know in real life there might be, but even then, I'd keep it Teen rated or less. I'm adhering to bingo rules. I chose strictly art for this square, so no fic at this time. As always, I'm open to CONSTRUCTIVE criticism!

  


Just a few besties getting together for some Goonies and snax... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to start people arting soon... I swear!


	12. Just F*ck it Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dropping by Cas's house for a visit, Dean unwittingly interrupts a session of mind game strategies between his ex-vampyre and ex-fae boyfriends. Dithering over politely excusing himself, or staying to prevent a double homicide during afternoon tea, he discovers the role of referee comes with benefits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was posted as a prompt on Facebook and I couldn't pass it up. Of all the pairings I could conjure, Destiny felt just right.  
> So have some bickering Cas/Benny with social referee Dean getting in the love too, based on this prompt given on fb from @envydean:
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> This is for @eyesofatragedy, Happy Birthday Trexy!🦖  
> Thank you to tfw-cas for being an eager beta and always and @EyumdaRelmera in the Destiel Readers and Writers group for advising on fae law & etiquette!

  


"Hello, Dean. How are you?" Castiel smiled with genuine warmth when greeting his ex boyfriend-turned-best friend. 

Dean had just stopped by Castiel's home for a visit, as friends tend to do from time to time. "Cool, cool. What's new?"

Castiel seemed a little nervous when asked, as if he'd been interrupted.

"Oh, trying out some new tea leaf combos this afternoon. Would you like a cup?"

"Sure, your tea is always good. Relaxing." 

To be fair it was a little too relaxing and made Dean want to nap. Yet, he adored his time with Cas, even if he seemed to lose it around him.

_**Hi. My name's Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius. I like long walks on the beach and I'm bi, but you already knew that since you clicked on the A03 link of your own free will, for which you have TFW to thank for that.** _

_**Yer welcome.** _

Cas was about to set a steaming cup in front of him when a knock at the door broke his calm, causing him to nearly drop the scalding cup in Dean's lap. 

"Taken by surprise. That's not like you, Cas. Who's the visitor? I see you've put out more cups and sugar than necessary."

He appeared to be swallowing a bitter pill. "Your old friend, the vampyre."

"Benny?"

Shit, clearly Dean had interrupted this afternoon tea party...but the rules of fae hospitality dictated Cas couldn't turn him away. And now Dean couldn't _run_ away no matter how badly he wanted to, because something told him if he did, his two best friends were likely to kill each other. 

No really. _They might._

"Why?" Dean demanded. 

Cas looked back over his shoulder and hushed him. "Don't be rude, or I'll kick your ass out. Maybe even feed you to him."

"Wouldn't be the first time he ate me."

"What?

"What was what?" Dean hurriedly took a gulp of tea.

It looked liked he steeled himself before opening his front door.

"Benjamin Lafitte," Cas stated, making no further commentary, but hiding a smirk.

What in tarnation was the succubus up to? 

Seconds later it became clear, the more their eyes were locked in some heated stare. Benny couldn't come in unless invited. Per fae law, Cas had to be hospitable. That fairy bastard would be saving his own bacon, while maintaining the maximum level of douchery towards Benny by waiting until the last damn minute to extend an invitation. 

_**Alright, some backstory-** _

_**These assholes used to date. But they're my assholes because I've dated both of them since then. But that shit went sideways because neither could get over their jealousy, or me. Which blows, cause I love'em. But they're too busy being dicks right now for me to even figure out why Cas asked him over here in the first place.** _

Dean was about to bark something at Cas when he watched him make a grand gesture of welcome.

Bowing to the vampyre he spoke, "Do come in, would you care for some tea?"

Benny stood there, looking smug as all get out, but wiped the look off his face when eyeballing Dean, sitting pretty in the family room working on a lavender hibiscus blend. He cleverly dodged thanking Cas for the invitation, as once one offers verbal thanks, fae can take that as a cue to ask for anything up to and including the fucking sky.

"Much obli- I appreciate that," Benny narrowly recovered, "Dean, pleasure seeing you here. Might I ask-"

"You may not." Cas realized his hastiness bordered on rude, and reeled himself in with another bow. "May I take your coat, _first_?"

Benny glanced at Dean, who carefully nodded. He peeled off his blue pea coat to reveal a starch white henley, and damn that boy had been working out. Dean immediately felt himself twitch in his jeans. He had to wipe his face with his palm to cover an eye roll in reaction to him. 

Cas seemed to notice him as well, and used Benny's coat to his advantage while heading to the coat rack by the door. 

Benny proceeded to offer compliments, which fae were known to be fond of. And yet he did so in a pretty ballsy way.

"Those horns are lookin' fine these days, you had'em recently polished…"

"N-"

"With Turtle Wax, Old English..Astroglide? They're uh..unusually shiny."

Miffed as fuck, Cas clipped, "They're naturally self lubricating."

Dean was glad to be there, preventing homicide and not bearing witness to the fucking apocalypse. Cas looked like a tea pot ready to combust minus the whistling and yet, Dean observed him simmering down under tremendous effort.

"Benjamin, I've procured some 0 positive, would you care for some with your tea?"

"Mighty polite of you, Cas, why not?" Benny's eyes danced.

Cas seemed to have calmed, which sent Dean practically levitating in fear..of what, he didn't yet know. But sure as shit, trouble was brewing. 

When returning from the kitchen once more, Cas handed Benny a small thermos with a straw. Dean relaxed a little, grateful Cas had taken the time to warm the blood for him. Yet, when Benny took a sip, he immediately cleared his throat. Dean saw the flash of fangs descending involuntarily, and wondered what the fuck had just happened to necessitate Benny grabbing a napkin to supposedly 'wipe' his mouth. His eyes flared a brilliant red.

"Don't usually go for Italian take out, they're a bit spicy for my taste. But this guy must've gone light on the garlic before donating, sure is kind of you, Cas. You're the poster fae of hospitality around here in Limbo's Hollow."

"My apologies, my sense of smell isn't nearly as attuned as yours. I'll have to ask for more precision contaminate screening next time I go through the blood center’s atm machine. How gracious of you to compliment me regardless, and as always.. I aim to please."

Dean couldn't dismiss Benny's discomfort from the blood of someone who'd obviously horked down a garlic pizza just before donating. He was about to tear Cas a new one when Benny stood, preparing to excuse himself to the bathroom, when suddenly an insane amount of...rice? poured from his satchel all over the shag carpet. 

"Shoot. I'm sorry brother, was just at the market for rice to make a batch of jambalaya. I swear I didn't know there was a hole in the bag. Here, let me help pick it up," Benny apologized and leaned over. 

Cas looked like he'd peel Benny's face off and feed it to fae children if he could. "I've got it! Sit down and finish your tea, Benjamin. You on your hands and knees in my home? Wouldn't dream of it."

"Had me on my hands and knees here plenty of times," Dean mumbled in severe irritation.

Both turned and asked, "What'd you say? What was that?"

"What now?" Dean innocently asked, finishing his own tea and catching a flash of a Coffee Mate creamer container in Benny's satchel.

What the fuck? Had he come here to role play Benny the Barista, or sabotage him?

Cas resumed his clean up while Dean went to find him a pair of tweezers. He wanted to kick Benny's teeth in for dropping rice, all over a shag carpet no less. But if he so much as hinted at grabbing the fuckin' Dust Buster to lend a hand, it'd be an insult to his precious hospitality. 

He passed him the tweezers just as Cas's eyes glowed in kelvin blue anger. Oh shit. This was not good. 

"How's your family these days, Benjamin? Any special news?"

Benny smirked back at him. "C'mon now, we've been over this before. What makes you sure I even have a family? And if I did, why would I even chance slipping up and mentioning it off hand, knowing full well ya might go and snatch up a newborn niece or nephew?"

"Well I don't know, seeing as how your kind would have to _take_ anothers' child and _turn_ them to make them _'yours'_!" Cas seethed, his eyes blazing with blue and black infernos, his wings finally extending in fury and his horns spilling oil down the sides of his face.

 _Fuck me,_ Dean thought _._

Benny's eyes glowed a frightening red-black and his fangs shot out, positively dripping with hunger and rage. "Which is somehow morally incomprehensible by comparison to your kind just taking someone else's, period?!"

"I'll not be insulted in my own home, especially by _less dramatic_ Lestat!" Cas shrieked. 

"Fine, there's plenty of woods for me outside, you fluteless Mr. Tumnus!"

_Oh my fuck, he did not just..._

Cas shot up to his feet and launched himself at Benny, his eyes burning like flaming coals. Benny's mouth was open wide in a growl, baring his fangs.

**_Time out_ -**

_**This could end only one of two ways. Either I move the furniture around, like so, getting the coffee table out of the way, the lamp, and who are we kidding? The China tea set too. That way there won't be a mountain of broken shit to piss and moan and call the Fae Positivity Police authorities over once the dust settles. Or, I leave and let them kill each other. I'm less a fan of option two.. so, time to referee.** _

As Dean quickly slid a couch cushion between their faces, since both were too pretty for that kind of damage, he happened to notice Benny sporting a rage boner. 

"Goddammit, you two! Calm yer tits!" Dean hollered at them once they'd safely crashed to the floor, much to their alarm.

"What the hell are you two doing? Cas, why'd you'd invite him over here? That's like pouring water on an oil fire! And _you_ , Benny, what the fuck you think you're doing with that chilled bottle of Pumpkin Spice coffee creamer tucked in that..that that man purse... oh don't gimme that look! Last time you wore that thing was way back in nineteen ninety never! Now both of you- _Explain_. _Now._ " 

Both stubbornly refused to speak. 

"Fine then," Dean threw spell after spell around Cas's home, which he'd illegally learned on the down low, to conceal their voices from the Fae Positivity Spy Police, those tiny bastards were everywhere and came in every size. You never knew who was gonna turn you in for not providing the level of hospitality expected of the fae. "As a third party participant to whatever the fuck this, I'll decide how to handle the breach of etiquette."

Both looked surprised and horrified, but by fae law, it was just. Dean knew how his ex-boyfriends would handle this, but there was no choice. If he didn't settle this, every enchantment Cas had placed on his home would disintegrate or burst, revealing he'd been cursed with the Mark of Shame, as it was known in fae circles. The degree of shame was such that no fae, light or dark, would willingly suffer it.

"Cas, you'll offer him a Rithe, in recompense for the first breach."

"Me?! In my own home?!?" Cas screamed.

"You kept him waiting outside your door, on purpose, don't even pretend you didn't! And Benny, wipe the smirk right off that mug or I'll sentence you with one, _in your house._ You're just as guilty and you know it. Neither of you have observed the proper etiquette, and if I hadn't stayed, this place wouldn't be standing. I have spoken." 

Dean had sentenced Cas, the succubus had no choice. 

Cas begrudgingly took a knee. "How may I appease my breach?"

"Benny, you gonna apologize?" Dean asked, already knowing the answer.

"What the fuck for?" the vampyre snarled.

"That's what I thought." Dean dropped his head and pinched his nose between his fingers. Then he took a quick glance to verify all parties were still reacting as they had been minutes early. All parties were even _more_ interested. Benny's jeans looked like a T-rex was ready to climb out, and Cas looked like a Leviathan would ooze out of his head any second. Welp, if he had to put up with their shit, the least he could get was some decent spank bank material out of this, and maybe do them a solid in the process. 

He folded his arms across his chest and informed them they'd have to, "Just fuck it out."

The cacophony of outcry was expected. Dean couldn't lie, both were goddamned amazing in bed, and more than once he'd fantasized about them together. Time to make that dream a reality.

"Fae law dictates I present you with a means of resolution. Not my fault you guys clearly didn't bone it out of your systems before breaking up, but if you do, then it'll get rid of your aggression, and I can legitimately verify under oath that you took the Rithe and all offense has been settled, if later questioned," he nonchalantly laid out, as if it were as simple as shaking hands.

Benny's grin went ear to ear, in obvious amusement, while readily dropping his drawers and plopping in the recliner to get cozy. "Ain't gonna suck itself, pretty boy."

The scathing look of heated betrayal Cas shot Dean was one for the ages, and yet he absolutely could not deny the laws Dean had cited, right down to his breach being the cause of the mess he now found himself in. Even if he could, those leaking horns _did not lie._

"And you're just going to sit there, watching?" Cas shot at him. 

With an attempt to squelch the obscene level of amusement he was experiencing, Dean did his best to appear dead serious when nodding, but all present knew he was nearly levitating wiith glee. 

Cas continued, "I assumed you'd have enough, given the rumored frequency of your visits at court, servicing King Oberon…"

Dean knew it was a veiled stab, but he respected it was a stab in front, at least. Trying to smooth things over in explanation he replied, "Hey, I'm single and like to mingle. When Oberon requests, it can be mutually beneficial…"

"Can be, but is it?" Benny asked with a hint of green flaring in his otherwise beautiful blue eyes. His visits with Oberon were obviously news to Benny, who was doing his damndest to play it cool, when Dean could see that he wasn't. 

"He's no succubus or vampyre in the sack, as he would have the kingdom believe," he elucidated with his hand over his heart in comical sarcasm, but also a smidgen of sincerity for what he'd shared with the two dorks about to bang it out in front of him, "but he gets the job done."

Benny harumphed. "You come to me when you want the job done, and _done right_."

With Cas's clothing now a pile beside his recliner, he reluctantly took a knee, and proceeded to give Benny what Dean surmised was a demonic death glare. 

Benny took Cas in for a moment, and Dean thought he witnessed a small measure of kindness and sentimentality flickering in his eyes. He remembered the look well, as when they'd been dating, Dean was sure Benny was the nicest guy with a set of fangs anywhere, ever. Perhaps some old feelings for Cas still lingered in his heart, which he knew was made of gold. 

"I'll be..you feeling alright, Cas? I can't recall a time when them horns were weeping so much," he observed, gently touching one, then ghosting his fingers down his face. 

Cas stiffened minutely. "If Oberon lusts after our past beloved, what makes you think I still don't?" 

Dean wasn't expecting such a soft gesture, yet it was obviously the cause of Cas's deflection, and denial his arousal was for Benny. Could he be turned on by Dean? Sure. But he hadn't been sporting a behemoth in his pants until Benny arrived and his rage set in. No, Dean's money was on Benny being the one Cas's body was so eager for, in the moment. His petty denial chased away the softness that'd just shown through Benny's eyes, and replaced them with resignation and sarcasm. Shoot, maybe Benny still carried a torch for him too. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. 

Either way, it was too late to turn back now as Dean watched Cas dive between Benny's legs and take him in to the hilt. He remembered Cas' breathtaking skill at giving head; truly it was out of this world, but he'd never seen him just go for every inch like that. Despite having come from a visit with Oberon, Dean found his dick twitching at the thought of Cas wrapped around him just like that. And the bliss falling across Benny's face, he used to make that face with him too...why'd they have to be such assholes? 

That's why Dean had broken it off. First with Benny, who seemed to get his hackles up at even the mere mention of the guy, then with Cas, whose tendency towards chicanery in the vampyre’s presence just killed any genial mood he'd hoped to maintain during unplanned run-ins in town.

After a few minutes Dean noticed he'd begun to squirm in his seat. His jeans were suddenly an annoyance to his dick, who'd decided not to behave. Maybe it was the fact Cas now appeared all too comfortable sucking Benny off, and Benny seemed downright content to let him. Until Benny began petting a horn, knowing from past experience, obviously, that rubbing the leaking oil from the thing would send Cas into orbit, it being an erogenous zone of his. 

Before long Dean could hear Cas making a deep huffing sound, and Benny looked down at him, twirling his tongue around his swollen head and then sealing his lips around it to suck even harder. The vampyre suddenly hissed, his fangs had descended, and his lips curled back slightly.

"Careful with those pearly whites now," he tugged on a horn.

Dean locked on to Cas's mouth and sure as shit, saw a few blood droplets from his teeth. _Cas bit Benny's dick? What the fuck? How had Benny not jumped to the moon from that?_

Benny gripped his thick cock mid shaft, squeezing on the upstroke unusually tightly. Slowly, blood was pooling in the shape of bite marks. When a few tiny drops spilled, a ravenous expression came over Cas who eyeballed the now purple, engorged head like it was candy. He sucked on it hard, and Benny began to relax back into him. 

However, minutes later he jumped and before Dean knew what was what, Cas was on all fours, ass up, with Benny's hips pistoning into him like some well oiled demonic freight train. 

"What the Hell Be-" 

But Dean was cut off by the most lascivious, wanton moan he never expected to hear from a creature. Benny looked at him, slowing, but not by much. "What?"

"Y-ya can't just go in hot like that!" He blurted out, with concern for Cas's safety.

Benny immediately ceased all movement, utterly stupefied. "Lube's naturally occurring for'em..didn't you feel it when fucking him?"

Now Dean was flustered. How did he tell Benny that he never topped? Cas had always fucked him and with Benny, he'd just always taken such damn good care of him the subject had never come up. It wasn't that he didn't like fucking someone he was with, it was just the one aspect in his life he was completely okay and blissfully happy with handing over those reins.

A quiet admission from the bent over peanut gallery broke the awkward silence. "We never did that. There's just something about him that made me love taking care of him."

To Dean, Benny appeared to instantly boil. "You serious, you're a switch? I coulda been fucked into the next century by you, but you conveniently forgot to disclose that nugget, is that what I'm hearing?"

"Yes.." Cas again quietly answered, but arched his back and leaned against him, angling for friction. 

Abruptly, Benny was back to pounding into him with fury. His hands grasped and cut into Cas's hips, and Dean watched the look of determination on his face screaming that one way or another, he was getting a taste of what it felt like to get railed by Cas. This, of course, was news to Dean, as during their time Benny appeared to adore taking care of him as well. 

While bearing witness to the scene in front of him, Dean couldn't help visualizing what it would be like fucking one of them and getting his ass thoroughly wrecked by the other. As Benny grabbed his soaking wet, right horn and yanked, Dean went from pup tent in his pants to apex velociraptor mode and tried, but failed miserably, to silence a groan. Without warning, Cas screamed in ecstasy, and came all over the carpet. His heavy cock bounced furiously as Benny continued relentlessly pumping into him, nowhere near finished himself. As a succubus, Cas had very little refractory period, but even he needed a few minutes recovery. 

"Hey Benny go easy, jeez give a guy a break," Dean softly urged, ignoring the highly uncomfortable situation between his legs. 

Benny shot him a feral look. "C'mon then, give him a break and bring that ass here."

Goddammit, that was tempting. Before he had the chance to exercise better judgement, it was as if his dick were controlling him, demanding he strip. While doing so, he glanced at Cas who silently nodded in permission and acceptance. Dean could tell he was a tangled ball of emotions, but when it came to sex, it was a no brainer, he was always down for more.

Once his boxer briefs were off and Cas had moved aside, Dean eagerly got on all fours, offering himself to the vampyre God that was Benny. The guy was huge, hard, and like a hammer at the most perfect time, like when only blunt and precise would do. The sweet soul was so much more than that, but in the heat of the moment, Dean's world narrowed to his baser needs, and those needs included Benny's massive dick filling him to the brim.

He felt the startlingly soft touch of Benny's fingers rubbing against his hole, moist with the oil secreted by Cas's horns, opening him as quickly as was feasible, for as desperate as they both were to come. Dean braced himself, remembering the sheer girth of Benny occasionally bringing tears to his eyes when first taking him. Once he was suitably stretched out for him, it was heaven on earth, but until then, sometimes it took a while.

"Dean, hey, look at me...look in my eyes and just breathe," Cas's gentle voice called him into focus, he was right in front of him, holding his face, "can I help take care of you too? I can get you where you want to be, a little faster," he hurriedly explained, trying not to make more of it than it was. 

But it was always more with each of them. Dean couldn't help falling for them as he had. It’s why he fought to keep their fierce friendships intact after they'd split. He loved them, plain and simple. Always would. 

"Yeah, go ahead buddy. Please," He'd called him that when they were together and afterwards, so why it felt awkward and somehow disingenuous now, he didn't know exactly but he didn't think on it for long, because the bliss of his hot mouth under him, sucking his aching cock, was making the other situation with Benny back there much easier.

As Benny pushed the swollen head of his dick past that first ring of muscle, Dean felt that deliciously slow burn sinking inside him. Damn, Benny was thick, but thankfully taking his time so as not to hurt him. Soon Dean would feel himself adjusted to him, and then the real fun could begin. In the meantime, feeling Cas nursing his cock, sucking his head and flicking his tongue underneath was superb bliss. He hadn't even realized he'd begun squirming and pumping himself into Cas's hot mouth until he also felt Benny doing the same into his hole. 

Oh God did it feel good, and he'd missed them both so much. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect to be with one of them again, let alone both. 

"Hmmm, I sure have missed you, Dean. The curve of your back, how you lean into me, so desperate for me to be even deeper. Feels so good, cher."

Dean bloomed under his praise, as he always did. Beneath him, Cas’s greedy sucking had him hard as nails and he could see _his_ cock twitching back to life, inches from his face. He didn't even have to ask, Cas just knew instinctively, what Dean wanted, and gave it to him. Finally everyone was on the same page, having a good time in each other's company, and they'd no doubt walk away from the afternoon, extraordinarily more satisfied than expected.

Dean let go and lost himself, appreciating the fuck and suck his bestest friends in the world were raining upon him. Cas was hardening in his mouth more quickly than anticipated, so perhaps this unanticipated development was having an effect on him too. The sinful sighs coming from him sure lended to the notion. 

"That's it, Cas, suck him good. He's so much tighter when yer on him like that," Benny huffed, beginning to lose his perfect composure. He was still going easy on Dean though, a little too easy.

"Do your worst Benny, I can take it harder than that," Dean moaned out.

"Careful what you wish for, Chief," Benny warned, cautiously giving it to him quicker and harder.

He also went deeper now and then, when pausing to circle his hips. He grinded in at a deeper angle which made Dean see stars. 

"Good boy, Dean, them boys are getting nice and tight," Benny drawled.

He felt it too, and was more desperate than ever to come. That's when Cas changed things up, giving Dean's cock a kiss then standing up. 

"May I fuck you, Benny?" The succubus politely inquired.

Dean felt him slow in shock, but not stop altogether. He must've nodded because Dean heard no reply, but the sound of movement behind him and a distinct change in Benny's position. He was more hovering over Dean on the floor, and his hips’ pacing slowed for a time before picking up again. If it were possible, Dean thought Benny was even harder as he felt the vampyre absorbing some rather hefty jolts.

His mind and body were in such bliss as the train charged out of the station, huffing and chuffing towards Cumsville. Dean's balls were so swollen as they slapped harshly against Benny, who slammed in him to the mind numbing rhythm Cas had set. A warm hand rubbed his cock, which was growing more sensitive by the second. 

"Nuh...unn..jeez Benny, don't stop, fuck," he cried out as blinding white flashed across his vision.

From the base of his spine, his orgasm had worked its way through, cresting like a tsunami, and he exploded all the way through Benny's unrelenting, pistoning thrusts. When he began to twitch, Benny pulled him off, flipped him over onto his back, and yanked him back to where the vampyre nipped at his neck. Dean knew he'd drawn blood but couldn't find it in him to care, as the guy wiggled back down to his cum coated dick and gently sucked on it, having made himself a blood-cumtiny. 

He yelped in sensitivity but all it took was a single, firm, "hush," from Benny to push through so he was semi hard again, and fast approaching a multiple climax. 

Dean couldn't believe how hot this was, how stunning the feral gleam was in Cas's voracious eyes as he stared at him, getting his dick sucked and stroked, while fucking into Benny. He noticed Benny's breathing was growing more labored when sucking him harder. Dean was too astonished by the sleeper orgasm that suddenly and violently wracked his body so hard he screamed and blacked out.

When he regained consciousness, he realized he was still coming, but floating down from the mile high cloud he'd been on. Benny's fingers slipped out, and he hadn't even realized they'd been inside him. Damn that tea! Cas needed to adjust the herbal doses of whatever he put in there. He'd almost missed Benny coming all over him to gorgeous patterned bellows, and Cas following right behind. 

Seconds later they all lay in a dog pile heap, mess be damned. Each cuddled the other two close until they settled to each of Dean's sides and resumed their normal respiratory rhythms.

"That was fun," Dean lazily tossed out minutes later, lightly running his hands through their hair, "Why _were_ you guys meeting..and yes I'm being nosey, and no I don't care."

Both appeared somewhat shy for a few seconds, before Benny volunteered, "Neither one of us were happy with what happened between us. We weren't being fair to you or each other."

"We missed..us," Cas gestured to the three of them together, "admittedly, I did not anticipate _this_ happening."

Dean smiled to himself, or thought he did.

"What's that for?" Benny asked, having caught his apparent joy.

"Glad it did."

"Yeah..same," "Me too," both replied at the same time.

"Dean?" Benny asked nicely.

"Yeah?"

"I don't want you seein' Oberon anymore."

"Nor I," Cas added, burrowing deeper into his side.

Dean chuckled,"With you two, I wouldn't have the energy even if I did still want to. And Cas, we're helping you clean up. I'm overruling any protests."

Benny laughed too, "I second that."

Cas grinned and answered, "Alright, it would be rude of me to deny my generous guests such a request."

...and they lived horny and happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "But I thought Succubi were only women!" you might say...but nope! I thought so too until envydean showed me this:
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> So go forth and have fun with that!  
> Thanks to envydean for tossing out the prompt and the additonal enlightenment! 


	13. Forged in Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, King of the Shadow Orcs, holds a weapons competition when in need of a short blade worthy of his skill. Abaddon and Rowena are the bladesmiths tied for first place and only they know the kind of tiebreaker for which he truly desires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I watch too much Forged in Fire, alright? Can ya blame me? I'm just a girl, standing in front of some blades, wanting to draw some blood...*ahem* 
> 
> Thanks to @jackandthesoulmates for the beta!!!! This is for the One Penis Policy Square, I made Rowena and Abbadon work for that glorious penis lmfao.

  


"I'm told you both are tied yet again. It seems your skill is equal in all that you do. You swear you're no relation?" Sam asked the two beautiful gingers kneeling at the edge of his polar bear rug.

Rowena maintained full respect and dared not look upon the King as she replied. "Aye. We're from different lands, she and I."

"Our masters are from two different realms, Your Majesty. Though you're kind to comment that my skill can compete with hers." Abaddon's strategy was flattery and the King knew it. He decided to see if it extended past her blade she'd soon be given to prove its worth.

"Present me the blades."

Two trays were brought forth, each woman took one holding the crafts of their own making. Abaddon stepped forward and bowed, offering hers for inspection.

"Your Majesty, I've made you a gladius sword. It's v shaped precision tip will allow you to angle between an opponent's ribs, enabling for lethal blows to vital organs."

Sam took the sword, he stepped back and swung it a few times then jabbed with it. "It's well balanced, comfortable, the artistry of the golden inlay is beautiful."

Sam set the blade on the tray and moved on to Rowena who also bowed, casting her eyes downward as she handed him the pair of blades which fit perfectly in his palms.

"Karambits, Your Highness, they're curved with custom finger holes, should you ever find yourself in need of close quarters self-defense. There are none sharper than these blades, but Sire, your skill is legendary. It's doubtful you'll find yourself in such a situation," Rowena offered.

It was a warm evening, Rowena enjoyed the dancing of candlelight on the King's face and neck. She wished to see him without a shirt, but that was forbidden.

"Be that as it may, I've commissioned weapons specifically for situations I cannot predict. Perhaps there may yet be more wisdom in your foresight. Nevertheless, I require a demonstration. Both of you, show me what these are capable of."

They stood, silent and stunned. Was the King suggesting they fight each other? They made the blades, they hadn't trained to wield them. Well, Rowena had, at least.

Bowing, she slid her fingers through the holes and took a defensive stance, putting one blade behind her back and the other crossing her body. Abaddon spun the pommel of her blade and as she made an outward jab, Rowena blocked her, slicing deeply into her forearm.

The blood dripping from Abaddon garnered the King's attention, but she only gifted him with a maniacal grin. Her left arm shot out, gripping Rowena's right and whirling her in close to her hip. She held her gladius tip to the edge of her lace dress, making a show for the King she'd scored a point.

"Do you yield, Sister?" Abaddon asked with a sneer.

"Aye."

Once back in defensive stance, Rowena really took her proverbial gloves off. Abaddon took a swipe but instead of backing away, Rowena closed the distance, planted her foot in the center of Abaddon's chest, and swung under her. Rowena effectively threw her over her own body and Abaddon crashed into some wooden compartments stacked to the side of the throne. Before she could get up, Rowena had her karambit pressed against Abaddon's throat.

"Do you yield..Sister?" She snarled in sarcasm and for tear in her dress.

"Enough," the King spoke while crossing his legs, "it appears you're talents in combat are equal to that of your smithing. While I enjoy a little blood spilt in sport and fun, I will not abide further injury to either so proficient in your valuable trade. We'll settle this another way, with another sword. Guards, leave us."

The King's command resulted in all guards present leaving his tent immediately. Rowena knew the King loved women and men, bedding both. But his weakness lied with those who had fire in their hair. As he unlaced the front of his pants, revealing a rather large sword indeed, and one infinitely more fun to play with, he smirked at both his lovers and lay a challenge before them.

"Let she who can polish my sword the fastest, be crowned the winner."

Rowena grinned at Abaddon. Abaddon grinned back with fire in her eyes. This was a challenge they'd both enjoy.

It's good to be King.


	14. The Super Blood Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Husband's Sam and Gadreel arrive home after caber toss practice with best friend Eli, just in time for Sam's rut to hit. Living hours out of town, a panicked Eli realizes it coincides with the Super Blood Moon rising that night. Being vampire and not wolf, Eli's cravings don't exactly align with theirs, initially. However, with Gadreel being angel and Sam being wolf, they quickly learn how to sate each other's needs and hearts.
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly crack and smut with little to no plot. It started out as crack talk between myself and @Soluscheese because I don't know a thing about writing Omegaverse. What if Vamp! Eli goes nuclear during the rare occurrence of a Super Blood Moon and becomes a cumpyre? Throw an angel in the mix and make them all switchy alphas and now we've got a seriously kinky AF party going on. 
> 
> Aaaanyways, thank you to the lovely @envydean for being my beta for this ficlet and putting up with my shenanigans! I have such a thing for Sam/Gadreel and of Destiel gets lovable ol Benny Bear then hell yes, Sadreel was getting his brother Eli! So I present the Poly Bingo Square: Omegaverse..for you Solus!!!

"I need a shower," Sam bemoaned as he unbuckled his utilikilt, tossing it in the laundry room, seemingly not caring he only had his boxer briefs and boots on.

Gadreel made a face and waved the stench away. "Yeah, you do. Better hurry up, your rut’s gonna hit hard and fast in a few hours. Good thing I made a Costco run for you this morning." 

He peeled his kilt off too and tossed it the laundry on top of Sam's, just as Eli froze in the kitchen doorway with a look of panic in his eyes.

"What's the date?" He asked almost silently.

When Sam rattled it off, Elinearly kicked himself for not planning more carefully. 

"Did you forget the Super Blood Moon?" Gadreel wondered aloud.

"Yeah, I accidentally wrote it down for next week."

Sam obviously thought about what this could mean. "Can you sense my rut coming on?"

"That's not what I'm worried about. Drive's too far for me to make it home."

"Your cravings are just those which come with the blood moon, though. If you get some blood from a center here in town, you'll make it home, right?" Gadreel asked, though to Eli he appeared to be dithering over something else.

God how he hated having screwed this up.  
"Not exactly," he gritted through his teeth.

"What? You need anything, all you have to do is ask Eli. You know that," Sam assured him.

"It's in our lore, though I didn't take it seriously until now."

"What? What didn't you take seriously Eli?" Gadreel half demanded, worried about him.

"When the occurrence of a super moon combines with a blood moon, our cravings change and...increase," he said with severe shame.

"To?" Sam insisted.

Without looking either of them in the eye, he answered, "Blood and cum."

He couldn't look up from the counter, he was too embarrassed. Fuck it. He grabbed his car keys and headed for the door. Yet a firm hand on his arm gave him pause.

"Eli, wait. There's something we wanted to talk to you about. We just weren't sure how you'd feel about it and we didn't want to fuck anything up between us…" he heard Sam declare behind him.

He chanced a look at Sam who gazed at him with the most feral look of hunger he'd ever seen. "We're in love with you. But we didn't want to mess things up. G and me are already an abomination given he's angel and already smells of alpha, like me. If you were wolf, you'd definitely be an alpha. It's okay if you don't feel the same way but it smelled almost like you do…"

This was hard for Eli. He'd been with a few omegas who weren't overly concerned he'd bite them. But he'd been wondering how good it'd be with the guys who'd had his heart for a helluva long time now. 

"...I do...this is just all kinds of...goes against the grain ya might say."

Gadreel was the one who closed the distance between them, rubbing Eli's arms reassuringly. "It seems that way. I feel the strangeness of my union at all times in my grace with Sam. Yet, I wouldn't change a second of it, ever. Will you consider it? You can use the guest shower at least and think it over."

He nodded. For now, knowing his affections were at least welcome, was soothing. He took them up on their shower suggestion though, he stunk to high heaven from the caber tossing practice earlier. While under the hot spray, he was able to consider the feelings he had for them under better focus. Maybe this was just the thing they needed to get their feelings out in the open.

After he'd finished showering, he roamed into the family room and kitchen, wondering where the guys were. He narrowed down the possibilities and didn't want to just barge—

"We're back in here Eli," he heard Sam say from the bedroom.

His heart kicked into gear, pounding against his ribcage. There was no telling what state of undress they were in and Eli was starting to feel a stronger pull towards them with every second the moon grew to rising. When he spied them both in their bed, under the covers he wasn't sure what to make of it.

Gadreel offered, "You and Sam will need to nap before this begins. Come, rest with us."

This was not what he was expecting, but it pleased him. It was a good way to warm himself up to the idea of being physical with them. When sliding under the covers, he maintained a hard grip on the towel around his waist but could see some red boxer briefs on Sam, likely for his benefit. 

Cozying up to Sam, he felt a kind of peace wash over him. He relaxed, cuddling into his side as he turned onto his back, then resting his head on his shoulder. Placing his hand on Sam's stomach another closed over his own. Eli's eyes fluttered open to see Gadreel smiling at him like the sun. His happiness was golden and left butterflies dancing in Eli's stomach. After a time, his heart rate settled. Eli and Sam fell into comfortable slumber.

***

When Eli awakened, it was dark outside. He felt movement next to him and instantly registered the heady scent of arousal and vellum. His own hunger for now, with effort, could be controlled. 

"You awake, Eli?" Gadreel quietly murmured. 

"Pretty much."

"I take it you've elected to stay through your feeding and Sam's rut?" Gadreel tossed out.

From the obscene amount of moonlight pouring in from the master bedroom skylight, Eli could see Sam's magnificent, shirtless form. A wanton moan escaped his lips while the covers undulated, revealing his need for friction. 

Eli didn't mean to react so suddenly but when throwing back the covers to find Sam pumping into Gadreel's hand, covered in precum and slick, he heard "Hell yes," tumbling from his lips. 

"I come a lot, sounds like it could be mutually beneficial," Sam muttered while stretching, the flat plane of his stomach twisting and moving had Eli salivating. 

Gadreel nibbled on Sam's ear. "My grace can regenerate blood, you can tap any vein of mine that you choose. 

The blood and cum lust together was new for Eli and he wouldd never experience the likes of it again, given he'd read the next occurrence would be around fourteen thousand years from now. But hot damn, he didn't know who to go for at first. Sam was closest so he just took him all the way down, loving the feel of his heavy dick in his mouth. His slick was sweet, almost vanilla in flavor.

"A-are you sure you're not part wolf, Eli?" Sam asked as if all of a sudden something had occurred to him.

"Might be some back in the old wood pile, but not to my recollection."

"I agree, his vanilla scent is so much heavier than yours Sam," Gadreel commented just before giving his husband a lascivious kiss.

That was news to Eli. As far as he knew, he didn't have a scent, aside from the person who donated their blood to him monthly, they had a penchant for lavender. 

Sam ran his fingers through Eli's hair and praised him. "Keep sucking like that, I'll give you all the cum you need.”

Eli was damn near choking on Sam’s length but he was so beautiful he didn't care. This was simple biology, but with feelings mixed in it took the experience to a whole other level. Sam needed to come and Eli needed his come, and loved it too. 

While Sam lovingly stroked Gadreel's cock, the angel helpfully mentioned, "You can't suck his head hard enough, he loves it, especially just before coming."

Eli noticed Sam's balls tightening at the slightest touch.

"Suck harder," Sam begged, sounding more than a little desperate. "That's it, right there."

Eli didn't need to be told twice and hollowed in his cheeks while reteacting his fangs. It was a terrible ecstasy, so close to getting what he needed but having to pull in the part of him which he usually used to obtain it. The discomfort was extreme but his emotions, overcome with all that was happening, overrode the discomfort by a long shot.

Sam grasped for anything he could hold onto; pillows, thepair of boxer briefs he'd peeled off sometime during their nap. Gadreel turned his face towards him and kissed him tenderly while Sam’s hips snapped forward, thrusting his cock into Eli's mouth. Sam's muffled screams into his husband's mouth were music to Eli's ears as his come shot down his throat in violent, hot surges. His vision was a haze as the cum registered on the back of his tongue and now in his stomach, hitting like adrenaline through an IV push. He just wanted more. 

With both knees splayed to his side, Sam was giving him spurt after spurt, seemingly without end. Gadreel kept kissing him, never once snarling at Eli. He could really see the benefits of this arrangement coming to fruition. As an angel, Gadreel wasn't afflicted with the possessiveness wolves had and his grace allowed him to be ready for sex any time his mate needed him. It could also replenish his vessel's blood supply when it got lowif Eli needed to feed from him, which by now was a forgone conclusion.

A solid ten minutes went by, if Sam had come with him deep throating, he'd probably be dead by now with as big of a knot as Sam had going. Eventually, when the flow of cum slowed, Eli's blood lust had him panting. He kissed the head and shaft of Sam's cock, not wanting to appear the love'em and leave'em type, even just for the time being. His eyes were soonlocked on to the pulsation of Gadreel's femoral artery, the sound of its healthy flow so close to the angel's bobbing, rock hard dick was pushing him dangerously close to an edge he hadn't been close to before now. Eli let his fangs descend, feeling exceeding relief in doing so.

Gadreel broke his kiss with Sam. "You may sate your other craving any time, Eli. It won't hurt me."

That was all the permission Eli needed. Like a lethal predator, he prowled over to Gadreel. Crawling over Sam's legs, his strike was swift and true. The gush of warmblood with a hint of pomegranate was heaven in his mouth. He was only vaguely aware of what transpired around him, only certain and overwhelmingly pleased that a plethora of blood and cum were offered to him freely and in whatever amount he desired from those who adored him back.

When pausing at the point he normally did during a live donation, Eli found only love and happiness gazing back at him from Gadreel and Sam. 

"Should probably stop, it's enough," Eli confessed quietly, though he could feel the other craving still gnawing at his insides. 

He thought it'd been sated by Sam, and it had. But maybe it was similar to his ruts, needing a little time before each round. 

"For now. If your other need hasn't been met, we've a few days of this ahead.." Gadreel inquisitively informed.

"It's still here. Lore didn't state for how long. Maybe it's like a rut. Don't want to overburden such hospitality, or just take and not give…"

Not knowing what their dynamic was, he didn't want to assume anything. Yet if either wished it, he'd happily reciprocate by offering part himself for their pleasure.

"I want Gadreel right now, but c'mere," Sammy waved him over close.

Sam was an alpha, so without clarification, he assumed it meant he wanted to fuck his angel. Eli thought he might whisper something, but instead he pulled him into a deep kiss, brushing his hand through his hair and around his neck. 

"Mmm I've been wanting to do that forever. G, is lips are perfect. Have a taste," Sam cooed.

Gadreel sweetly asked, "May I?" 

Eli was a sucker for affection and his heart was ready to burst with happiness, being able to kiss and snuggle with these beautiful men. He leaned back over to the angel who pulled him on top and cradled his form with his legs. His fingertips brushed against Eli's cheeks as the guy welcomed him with soft lips and a tongue that tasted of pomegranate. He found himself getting lost in the affection and his hips lazily rubbed his cock against Gadreel's. 

"Changed my mind," Sam said in a hungry tone," shifting himself around so he could cuddle him from behind, "Always figured you as alpha but if you switch, I really want to fuck you while you making G cum."

To drive that point home, Sam nudged his hardening cock along the channel of Eli's ass and oh was Eli game for that. He didn't often bottom, but this was Sam fucking Winchester—his ass was Sam's to own if he all but said the word. And if it mean having access to Gadreel's neck, cock, and astoundingly hungry lips, he was more than up for it. This angel was gorgeous and wanted him bad. Gadreel's contented sighs and the way his cock slid against Eli's had the power to bring heaven down on earth. 

"I switch, but need some lube first," Eli panted, reeling from sensation overlode.

"Not a problem," Gadreel issued from beneath him, smiling before kissing him again. 

Eli was already on his knees with both of Gadreel's between his own. He wasn't sure whose hands were roughly kneading his cheeks and rubbing light circles around his hole, but suddenly he felt himself pleasantly opening, as if by some sorcery. His boys were swelling beautifully under Sam's touch, that much he could tell. 

Gadreel raised up to reach his lips, nasaginf his cock. Before long Eli found himself thrusting forward into Gadreel’s hand, then back against the warmth of Sam's. His fingers easily slid in and out, ensuring he was ready. Sam was careful and kind, sliding in slowly. After a few minutes to find their rhythm, Eli was kissing Gadreel and pistoning his hips so the friction between their cocks was perfect. The pressure and slide as the angel angled his hips against Eli's was so good. Sam's forward thrust and circular grind of his hips during the brief moments when he was balls deep inside was sheer decadence. 

More than once he caught his fangs out and swallowed hard to retract them, only for Gadreel's forehead to press against his own, whispering loving encouragements. 

"Don't hide, Eli. You're beautiful. We love them. We love you," Gadreel told him. 

Sam was now pounding into him at the same rhythm Gadreel was stroking their cocks. 

"Sam, I'm gonna come soon," Gadreel warned and scooted up the bed a little bit. 

Loss of that particular pleasure wouldn't be for long when Eli watched Gadreel lay back, letting his knees fall to theside, giving him the perfect angle for the magic moment. Seconds later, when said moment occured, Gadreel welcomed his mouth on his cock. Hot streams hit the back of Eli's throat as the angel lightly thrust and moaned through his orgasm. Suddenly Sam was no longer fucking him, but nudging him aside a little to cum on his angel's cock, giving him even more to feed on. 

A pale blue glow emanated from Gadreel's eyes. Eli interpreted it as a contented afterglow as the angel kissed him until Sam was done. Though Gadreel's cock was still hard, he didn't seem to mind when Eli greedily sucked him down, enjoying every last drop they each had to give. The second he was through, both Sam and Gadreel whispered to each other then flipped Elion his back, settling between his legs. Both sucked his dick and kissed each other just out of reach.

They were such lovable, teasing assholes. And yet they knew when to cut it out and return their attention solely on him. Gadreel's fingers cautiously worked their way in, curling against his prostate. Sam sucked him down to a rhythm his hand kept. When Eli came, the force of his orgasm was so strong he saw stars. He could barely move right after but here both of them were, alternating softly sucking on him and crawling up to offer him small mouthfuls of cum which he immediately felt coursing through his veins like strengthening jolts of electricity. 

When they all had recovered, Sam stood, pulling Eli up with a kiss on the cheek and urged him towards the shower. Gadreel walked down the hall but seemed like he'd be right back.

"H-how can you walk with that?" Eli stammered at the sight of Sam cruising into the shower with both his dick and knot swollen as hell.

He smirked and pointed to Gadreel, "Wanna see him take it?"

Being vampire in a wolf world meant by most standards, Eli was considered a second class citizen. Vamps weren't allowed to attend the same schools as wolves. In most hospitals, vampires had separate units, much like isolation wards and had to wait longer than wolves to be seen and treated because few hospitals employed the medical staff qualified to treat vampires. It was slowly changing, but for now, it was rotten. So he'd never had a wolf anatomy class before and was more than a little curious as to how it worked. 

The water was cool, but thankfully not cold when they stepped under the spray. Sam held Eli lovingly and let him rest his head on his shoulder whispering, "We didn't want to mess up a good friendship. But this whole Super Blood Moon thing just...I'm glad I said something, even though it scared me."

Eli took a deep breath, feeling emotionally safe, which for him was rare. 

"Same. Didn't know how to bring it up. Guess it was kismet I forgot something this big."

He felt Gadreel cocoon around him from behind and pepper his shoulder with kisses. "It's fortuitous that you did. I'm thankful."

"How are you doing? Hungry?" Sam wondered, as he grabbed the body wash and started in with Eli's hair while Gadreel swiped more bubbles and washed his backside. 

"Hanging in there, it'll creep back in again soon."

They washed each other in comfortable silence until Sam turned Gadreel around, pushed him against the tile wall, thrusting against him. The angel seemed all too pleased and allowed Sam to lift him up, sliding inside while he wrapped his legs around him, and proceeded to drill him against the wall. Eli was enraptured by the scene but also wanted to join in somehow and not just awkwardly stand there like a creep. So he snuggled in from behind.

Intuitively, Sam slowed as if waiting on Eli to speak. "You want in on this?" 

Based on the slippery nature of things, he didn't appear to need any lube. 

"Might make me come faster and harder," Sam looked back over his shoulder with a grin.

No more convincing was needed, Sam was already bending and thrusting to get the right angle for Gadreel so Eli ran his finger down the crack of his ass and found he could slide two in right away. After three he was good to go and so was Eli. Sam was a fucking masterpiece that belonged in the Louvre, the way his movements were so precise and controlled. He thrust forward, hitting Gadreel's prostate and when pulling back, Eli hit his. The pressure and grip on his cock was insane and he could feeling himself quickly spiraling. 

At one point he just couldn't hold still. With every backwards slide of Sam's hips and ass, Eli slammed forward. Gadreel was babbling, eyes staring out in blissed out blue. It was the most incredible thing Eli had ever experienced. The water warmed them, their skin slapping together was somehow more erotic as he could see the straining muscles in Sam's back and ass. 

"Bite me when I come! I'm close!" Sam begged, turning his head so Eli would hear him. 

"You sure?" Eli verified, his hunger had escalated to nearly feral levels and Sam's carotid artery was right there, inches from him, pounding and pumping with the finest wine in existence.

"I'll...ensure you... won't hurt him," Gadreel suddenly piped up from his haze, before coming with a scream.

Seconds later Eli felt Sam tighten around him and bellow so loudly the glass doors shook. All Eli had to do was sink his teeth in right there. They throbbed and ached, when his fangs pierced Sam's flesh, the tissue popped, yielding deliciously. Hot red painted his mouth and throat. All he knew and saw was red. The most precious vintage he'd ever known was Sam, spraying like a dam had burst, filling his mouth. This man was the most exquisite feed he'd ever tasted. Eli pulled in copious amounts of blood, reveling in how it coursed through his body, singing the most tremendous song.

He wasn't aware of anything but this and when it slowed, so did he, savoring every speckle and drop. When awareness finally crept back to him he realized he was on his knees, with Sam holding him close as he drank from Gadreel's neck. He was able to retract his fangs and looked at both, utterly bewildered. 

"Did I hurt one of you? I'm sorry, shit I-" 

Yet Sam cut him off with a maniacal grin. "Gadreel got you to stop. You could hear him and stopped when he told you too. I thought that was pretty rare. We switched when you were kind of out if it."

Simply nodding, Eli was too shocked to speak just yet. Despite feeling drunk on energy and knowing like this he could toss a caber farther than anyone had before, his first instinct was to still, to ensure his lover's really were safe. 

The next few days were a haze of sex, blood, and cum. He never knew such happiness. And it wasn't what they were doing that sparked such joy inside him. It was who he was with. They treasured him, took from him what they needed in equal measure. Gadreel made sure they rested, had enough water and food. By the passing of the momentous lunar occurrence, the three of them couldn't leave each other alone. 

They adored the simplicity and feel of holding hands, embracing, and kissing. The sound of each other's hearts racing after sex and memorizing the splendor of their individual rhythms in restful slumber. By the time the next moon had risen, Eli hadmoved in with them, as an irrevocable, beloved family member. And it was all thanks to poor planning and the damn Super Blood Moon.


	15. Life After Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby's struggling after he and Missouri lose Mildred. Taking Mildred's sage advice from beyond the grave, Missouri gets him out on a camping trip to help his grieving heart.
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I provide plenty of smutty goodness in these squares, I want to cover all the bases. The beautiful reality is that polyamory comes in all shapes, colors, sizes, and ages. In this one I wanted to honor the dynamics of those who've spent decades together and will inevitably experience the temporary parting of one they dearly love. This is meant to feel a bit heavy, but also include refreshing hope as well. The idea of Bobby finding happiness with these two gals after his Karen was lost so horrifically in canon, just tugged at my heart strings.
> 
> Thank you to tfw-cas for the beta on this!

_"Aw, he's already feeling better, Miz. Told you," Mildred sang as she stood nearby, watching them cool off._

Missouri and Bobby were sitting in their fold up camping chairs, after setting up their beloved tent trailer, overlooking the shimmering lake.

_I know you did, honey. Took some cajoling, but he's gettin' there. Gotta remember, you're the second wife he's had to kiss goodbye. It doesn’t get any easier._

_"But he's got you, still. Remind him of that. Maybe bake him some pie. The heart's more soothed with a full belly."_

_You tryin' to get him over there sooner, Milly? We never did cross each other, but so help me.._

Bobby sleepily wondered, "You've got that _don't test me_ look going on and I don't know what that scrubjay flying around coulda done to put ya in that kinda mood out here."

Missouri and Mildred both heartily chuckled. A cool May breeze drifted by, calming she and Bobby, as if Milly were caressing both their cheeks.

"She here?" Bobby somberly asked.

"Mmhm," Missouri confirmed as she finished a row on a scarf for Bobby she'd brought along, "This was her idea, and a darn good one at that. You're already breathing more deeply; by weekend's end I'll have you looser than Mother goose down there at the lake."

_"Here he goes Miz, catch him quick," Mildred warned just as Bobby held his head in his hands and wailed._

Missouri lay down her crocheting and perched herself on his lap while holding him close.

_This is what we've been waiting for Milly. He hasn't let himself cry yet._

"Let it go, baby. Let it all out," she comforted, shedding a few tears herself.

_"Aw, you hopping aboard that tear train with him?" Mildred cooed._

_You were my wife too. Seeing things more clearly doesn't mean I miss you any less._

Missouri reminded, "Bobby, she went out with her boots on, which is more than you can say about your Karen, bless her soul. So we've gotta be grateful for that."

After a few more sniffles, Bobby admitted, "I know she did. And we got time to say goodbye. I just miss her so much."

"So do I sugar," Missouri kissed him, holding on even tighter when seeing the light shining from within Mildred getting brighter.

_"You've got each other and you're gonna be just fine," Mildred promised, smiling at them in goodbye._

_Thank you for giving us such beautiful love. We'll be seeing you later._

In a beautiful flash of gold, Mildred was gone. A few moments later Bobby sighed, "I feel lighter."

"That's real good honey. Milly's at peace, we should celebrate that. Now how does some peach pie sound?"

Bobby kissed her deeply. "Wanna go fishing while it cools off?"

"You bet I do."

Bobby still had a ways to go, Missouri did too. But she was thankful he'd taken such a big step in letting go and trying to live a little bit better. 


	16. Eat the Rude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eileen and Jo are finally opening the bakery of their dreams on Valentine's Day. When noticing the opening date on their newspaper advertisement is wrong and also contending with a vermin issue, their dear friend Crowley, offers some advice.
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave it to me to take Valentine's Day in a whole other direction, lol. Happy Birthday to Petrichoravellichor! And CastielsCarma is a fan of Hannibal, so I was channeling some of those vibes with this one! I hope it gives you a good chuckle Andri!
> 
> This is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine!

"The newspaper's here!" Eileen excitedly shared.

She and Jo had been baking since three am for opening day. Eileen had been bouncing in anticipation for the morning paper so she could cut out the ad she'd placed in it to put up on their fridge.

"What the hell!" Eileen shrieked, pounding her fist on the counter.

"Now what?" Jo signed, setting down her coffee and wiping her flour covered hands on her apron.

Eileen was completely incensed and explained, "It's lists tomorrow's date. That bastard screwed up!"

"We'll just have to bake him some humble pie," Jo nervously shrugged, kissing her girlfriend on the cheek.

"Still says the landlord's missing," Eileen grabbed her attention and conveyed with an innocent smile as Jo scurried, returning to the back.

The door's bell dinged when their first customer came in. Dean Winchester looked every which kind of kid-in-candy-store, with sparkles in his eyes and rubbing his hands in excitement.

"Mornin'..where's Jo?" he asked, poking his head around, craning his neck in hopes of spotting her. "Oh there she is, in back. She can probably beat Sam in the dead weight lift competition with how many sacks of flour she's been tossing around. Imma see if she needs any help."

Worriedly glancing back at Jo, she grabbed Dean and distracted him. "What flavor pie ya want Dean? First customer gets one on the house."

That had him U-turning in a jiffy. "Got any cherrie?"

"Sure. What kind do Cas and Sam want?"

"Pecan for Sam, because he's nuts. Banana cream for Cas cuz...just..uh ya the banana," he cleared his throat, realizing he needed to shut up, "Hey, didn't you guys put an add in the paper for today? I mean it's all you've talked about for weeks..."

"Yep, but the guy who screwed up is gonna pay for it," Eileen assured.

"Oh, I'll bet," Dean laughed, assuming that Jo's ire over the phone would be punishment enough. Eileen wrapped up the slices of fresh pie and handed them over, free of charge.

"Thanks for caring enough to pay attention and remember the date, Dean."

"It's opening day and Valentine's day, how could I forget?" He blew her kiss and signed "Thank you sweetheart, say hi to Jo's mama from me!"

"Will do!" She waved after him, smiling because she and Jo were so grateful to have such good buddies in the Winchesters.

Then she gawked at the fifty dollar tip he'd snuck in the tip jar.

Jo and Crowley mosied in from the back. Jo was holding a pie fresh from the oven and packaging it in a newly folded to-go box, while Crowley wiped the deep red from his hands onto his dark green apron.

Then Eileen hugged him. "Thank you again for helping us deal with that…"

"Three piece Zegna.." Crowley gently reminded, taking off the apron and straightening his fine tailored suit, "help is a strong word. I wouldn't dare be so antiquated as to claim either of you needed my assistance dealing with that vile specimen of a landlord who planned to assault you in the worst ways. You girls took care of that brilliantly. I merely advised you on his disposal. Sounds like there's already someone who needs to eat crow..er...toe."

"Seems kind of harsh for mixing up the dates," Jo mentioned, cringing slightly.

With a smile Crowley offered, "What better lesson, my dear, than for him to eat what he is."


End file.
